Final Destination Encore
by BTolson23
Summary: CHARACTER SUBMISSION SHUT It's overcast and muddy in Somerset, England, and would otherwise be miserable if not for the 'For the People' Festival, a musical extravaganza known throughout the world. When ten festival-goers are invited on a bus with the top musical talents of this generation, a new list is started. Can any of them survive the bloodshed to come?
1. Character Submission Intro

MAKE SURE TO READ THE INTRO, NOT JUST SUBMIT BLINDLY FOR A CHARACTER!

I told myself when I finished Final Destination: Revelations that I shouldn't keep pushing my luck. Every Final Destination Fanfiction I've written:- Revelations, The Directors Cut, The Elimination Game, The Last Laugh, The Ride to Hell, The Savior; has been relatively popular. Although for those who know me, we'll ignore the cursed Egyptian Heritage. I decided I wouldn't do any more Final Destination because I didn't want to ruin what I had. I felt like I couldn't to what I did with Revelations:- and certainly, I highly doubt I will ever top that journey.

So let me get this straight out of the gate. Final Destination:- Encore will be simple. And there is nothing wrong with simple. There isn't going to be any earth-shattering plot, no 'HOLY MOTHER OF ****, I wasn't expecting that!' moments, no finding out who Death is. I covered all that in Revelations. Encore will simply be fun. I want to have fun writing something I know I'm good at while I continue on writing my novel, and Final Destination is as good as I can get. Sure, they'll likely be twists, but nothing extraordinary.

So, let's have fun, shall we? I'll have fun writing some in-depth characters and to kill them off, while you guys can have fun creating a character! That's right, as per custom with my Final Destination you guys will be sending me characters. First off, though, a brief synopsis of the plot so you know what you're getting into:-

_It's Sunday the sky is overcast, the grass is muddy, and the air is filled to the brim with music. It's festival weekend down in fields and meadows of Somerset in the United Kingdom. The 'For the People' Festival is famous around the world for it's cast of colorful bands. Not just professional musicians that have albums, but up and comers that haven't even been signed yet. A place of smiles, food, the occasional argument that Rock is easily better than Country, and the even more occasional porta-potty tip over, the FtP Festival is a place for the people. When five festival-goers win a trip on a coach with the top musical talents of the festival, disaster strikes. A new list is made. Can any survive the bloodshed to come? _

And yes, you CAN be a musician if you want to be. So enough chit-chatting, here's the character sheet:-

NOTE:- Make interesting characters. Something you don't usually see, not just t-shirts and jeans. These characters need depth.

**Name:-** First and LAST name. Middle names if you want.

**Age:- **Don't care how old, how young. Be a baby if you so feel like it I still won't hesitate to kill you.

**Physical Appearance:-** Hair, facial hair, body shape, etc. etc.

**Nationality:- **English? Swedish? Russian? American? This festival is international.

**Clothing:- **Style of clothing the character likes to where, you can be exact if you want to be.

**Personality:-** Make an asshole, make a knight in shining armor, I don't mind. I'll work it into the plot somehow.

**Flaw(s):- **Every human has a flaw. What's your characters?

**Habit(s):- **Does you character pick it's nose? Hum to himself? Scream like a tiny, itty bitty little girl when scared?

**History:- **A brief paragraph of how your character grew up in the world. An orphan? Grow up without parents? a mute? A paraplegic? Anything and anything I will use.

**Favorite Type of Music:- **This is a festival, after all. Does your character like reggae, country, rock, death metal, choir?

I will likely start writing within TWO weeks. Probably as soon as I get enough characters. Speaking of which, if I get over twelve (it's possible), I'll choose the twelve best characters. If I only get a few, then I'll make my own. If I don't get any, I'll consider this a failure (but we'll make sure that doesn't happen, right? Right?!)


	2. Prologue

_2012_

_June 13__th__, Wednesday_

_21:01_

The ringing in her ears ping-ponged back and forth, drowning out all other sound. She could see nothing but darkness before realizing that her eyes were shut. The smell of burnt meat occupied her nostrils, but it wasn't any animal she was familiar with; like pig, but something wasn't quite right about it. A metallic taste was in her mouth and after exploring with her tongue she found her top lip had been ripped open and blood soaked her skin.

_What happened?_

Sabrina Holland tried to piece together her thoughts. She must have fallen unconscious as this wasn't how waking up from sleep should feel like. Perusing her memory she started to remember chunks of the day. She had been surprised in the morning by her parents and friends… but what for?

_My birthday… that's right._

They had gone to this fancy restaurant for her 18th birthday, the types that have the tiny portions and rich alcohol.

_Was that it? Did I drink too much? It was the first time I've drunk alcohol… But why are my ears ringing? Is this a hangover? _

Waiting a few moments, the ringing started disappearing, replaced by a crackling sound, like… fire?

Sabrina's eyes snapped open. Above her was the inky night sky, the stars twinkling, and black smoke billowing into the air? She could make out more noises now - somebody crying, some groans of pain, the sound of sirens close by. Feeling smooth tarmac under her fingers, Sabrina pushed herself up to a seated position, feeling as if she'd been punched in the mouth. A great, flickering orange blur was in front of her. Blinking furiously, her eyes focused on the flames. Massive orange flames. She could feel the heat from here.

Then she saw the bodies through a collapsed wall.

Charred figures with raw pink flesh exposed. Some were reaching outwards, clawing for survival but failing to find it. Others had curled into a foetal position, as if to protect themselves from the inferno. Her eyes drifted to another body, this one half burned. An older man, his bottom half completely burnt while his top half was limp and pock-marked with smaller burns. Wire-rimmed glasses hung from one eye, blue eyes staring straight at Sabrina.

"Dad!?" Her voice left her lips, thick with blood. Sabrina scrambled to her feet and fell hard back down, her left leg giving way underneath her. She yelped in pain and looked briefly at her leg. Something sharp had gone straight into her flesh, embedding itself deep into her muscle. A piece of metal or something. Sabrina drew in breath. Seeing the wound somehow made it feel worse. Quickly turning away, she focused back on her father. "Dad!" She pushed herself back to her feet, using a nearby railing to hop towards the body. She collapsed to her rear next to him, pain zapping up her leg. She grabbed her father's arm, but it was heavy with death. "Oh god… oh god…" Sabrina felt something rising and turned to vomit, but all that came out was a small amount of acidic fluid. She spat on the floor, blood mixing with the bare contents of her stomach.

Seeing that fluid, the rest of the blank spots of the night came back to her.

"I… I saw this… I…" Sabrina blinked, her head pulsing. "I saw this earlier today… I didn't eat… I wasn't feeling well because I… saw this…" Shivering, she pushed backward away from her father's body. "Oh god… I saw it all… and I… I walked out because… I didn't warn anyone… I…" Sabrina's eyes widened at the realization. "Could I have… saved you? Saved anyone else? What if I said something? Dad… is this… could I have…" Feeling a heavy knot in her stomach, Sabrina's hands curled into fists, her chest rising and falling as her breathing grew faster and faster. "No, no… this isn't… no, this can't be… not my fault… this isn't… I saw this though… I could have…"

Sabrina put her head in her hands, nails digging into her forehead. "Are you dead because of me? This is my… this is my fault, isn't it? Ah… this is… Hah… Hahah…" Sabrina's head dipped down, making a noise that was a twisted fusion of sobs and laughter.

_June 14__th__, Thursday_

_15:45_

The room was far too light for her liking. Pale blue walls, white curtains and bed sheets, that horrible turquoise-like floor. This was a hospital - a place of death and sickness. It should be dark colors to make people feel right at home with their misery. Sabrina absently rubbed the three stiches on her lip, glaring around the room. She hated hospitals. They were like ugly markers in the history of death and war. Hey, look over here, this is where you are given false hope and die. Her left leg was stretched out in front of her, wrapped in bandages. The wound turned out not to be serious, managing to avoid any serious arteries or veins. Twenty more stitches and it was all good; just a tiny pulse of pain every now and again.

Her clothes had been stripped from her when she had passed out after the paramedics found her hysterical and clutching her father's body. Now she was in this horrible gown that felt so synthetic.

Her father… it felt like a faint memory, a nightmare. No… it was real… but she didn't feel sad. Maybe all her sadness was lost the previous day.

"That's fine…" Sabrina murmured. "I don't like being sad." She glanced out of the window and saw lush green grass. "I want to go outside." With this simple thought in her mind, she swung her legs from the bed and stood on them with a wince. Her left leg still couldn't take her full weight. Limping over to the dresser she opened the drawer and was happy to find some clothes. Nothing special, a white t-shirt and jeans. Cheap stuff. "I suppose there is nobody to give them clothes from home…" Sabrina mumbled before heading for the door. Gripping the door-knob, she pulled.

_Click. Click click. Click._

"Locked…" Sabrina was surprised. "Why is it locked? I should be able to leave whenever." She tried again, stubbornly pulling and pushing on the handle. "Move… move! Let me through. Let… me… through!" She grit her teeth and slammed her shoulder into the door, only to make her bounce backwards. Panic rose up in her throat. _They think I did it… oh god, they think I did… I'm gonna be arrested, I'm going to be on death row, oh Christ, I'm gonna… _"LET ME OUT!" Sabrina screamed, slamming her palms on the door. "LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT, LET… ME… OUT!"

After a few minutes with no reaction, she stopped shouting and turned her back to the door, sliding down it with her legs stretched out. "They think I did it… They think I killed them. I didn't…" Sabrina rammed the back of her head into the door. "I DIDN'T KILL THEM!"

The sound of a key turning in a lock hit her ear. Pushing her way from the door, she stared in fear as the door opened and two suited men looked down at her. One was dressed in a shabby brown suit with a trilby hat propped on his head. He had a neat black moustache and soul patch combo. He was thin and gaunt, almost looking ill. However a friendly smile played on his lips.

The other man was heavy-set, with broad shoulders. He wore only a white shirt with the top button undone, revealing the start of a hairy chest. A loose tie was around his neck and small beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He didn't look neither friendly nor horrible. His expression was blank as he chewed on gum, his mouth moving up and down like a cow chewing cud.

"Sabrina Holland." The younger man with the trilby asked, extending his hand. "We need to talk."

_June 14__th__, Thursday_

_17:00_

Sabrina hesitantly sipped at the bottle of water, the rim scraping her hurt lip. Taking a gulp, she placed the water back on the table. A cheap, vending machine sandwich lay forgotten, not even touched. Opposite her sat the man with the trilby. He had introduced himself as Eugene Hawk, a special detective investigating a certain series of events. His partner was Harold Kelly, who still had that odd emotionless expression on his face, the _snap snap_ of the chewing gum the only noise in the room.

Eugene smiled that smile of his again. Something was wrong with that smile. It was friendly enough, that was for sure, but something was just… off. "Are you ready to talk?" Eugene asked with his soft voice. "At your own pace, Sabrina. We have time."

They hadn't arrested her yet. Sabrina figured that maybe she wasn't blamed for the explosion. She was obviously a person of interest. However, she was concerned that she hadn't seen any real police officers. Just people in shabby suits. Staying quiet, Sabrina looked at the table.

"You are not in any trouble, Sabrina."

"Well, that depends." Harold growled, a thick Irish drawl.

Eugene sighed. "_I _don't believe you're in any trouble. I don't think you caused the explosion yesterday. It was just an accident."

Sabrina absently nodded. It was an accident. She just saw it before it happened, was all…

"So what did you see?"

Stiffening, Sabrina looked up into Eugene's eyes. They were as friendly and off as his smile. "I… I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do. You saw something approximately five - ten minutes before the accident?"

"A vision," growled Harold again.

"I don't… I d-don't know what you're talking about." Sabrina made the split decision not to mention her… vision… as they called it.

"That's fine, perhaps you didn't realise it was a vision. Did you feel something akin to Déjà vu when you woke up? Like you saw the fire before?"

"No… I don't know what you're talking about. What do you people want?"

"We want answers, Sabrina, that's all." Eugene stood up, slowly walking around the table to Sabrina's side. She shivered, smelling an expensive but subtle deodorant.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry, but I don't know…"

"Then why were you outside of the restaurant?" Eugene asked. "You should have been inside with your family, celebrating your 18th birthday. Happy birthday, by the way." His smile flickered, the friendliness turned into something malicious for barely a second.

At that moment, Sabrina decided she hated Eugene Hawk. Nevertheless, she knew she had to answer his questions. She had to make sure they believed her. "I was feeling sick. Probably because I was drinkin-"

"No you weren't." Eugene answered before she could even finish her words. "There was no alcohol in your body. Try again. Why were you outside? You must've known the explosion was coming."

"I didn't! I was just feeling ill… I don't remember I… Why are you asking these insensitive questions? I just… my dad… my family… my friends…"

"All dead, I know. And here's the thing, Sabrina." Eugene placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. "I need to know if you knew the explosion was going to happen, because as far as I'm concerned, it is a citizen's duty to try and save others if that person has the privilege of being warned. So did you know it was coming? Did you know that that explosion was going to happen? Did you see the deaths beforehand? Answer me, Sabrina."

"I didn't know, I… I just felt ill, that was why I was outside, I don't know anything about visions, I don't."

"I don't like liars, Sabrina." Eugene whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "This has happened before. So called visionaries not saving others… Citizens being selfish… you had time to at the very least warn the restaurant. Maybe they would have dismissed you, but you would have tried. But you didn't even try, did you? You just left and allowed your father… your family… your friends… to die. Without even a tiny hint." Sabrina was stock-still, feeling Eugene's breath on her ear. "People like you are scum…" Suddenly Eugene drew back, a smile back on his face. "Unless you're not. Maybe you are telling the truth. Perhaps you did feel ill. Perhaps we are here for nothing. Maybe this was nothing more than an… unfortunate… accident."

"That is what it was… I h-honestly have no idea what you are talking about." Sabrina was scared. More scared than she had ever felt before. She wanted to go. "Are you going to… am I free to leave?" She feared the answer.

"Leave." Eugene echoed. "Of course. If you want to leave…" he swung his arm, motioning at the door. "Then leave."

Sabrina stood up quickly, heading over to the door. She was afraid Eugene was going to shut it but she managed to step through the doorway before Eugene leaned close once again.

"But we will be keeping tabs on you. You will be very… closely… watched."

_2013_

_February 22__nd__, Friday_

_22:45_

Water splashed her bare thighs as Sabrina walked down the shore of one of St. Ives' beaches. She was dressed in shorts and a bikini, ignoring the chills of the night air. The waves washed slowly back and forth, feebly grabbing at her ankles before falling back past the sand. She had tied her blonde hair back into a ponytail, letting it flap behind her as she slowly walked. She loved the beach. It was safe. Realistically, nothing could happen to her.

Because over the last year, _everything_ had happened to her. The first time happened not long after she left Eugene and Harold. Deep in her thoughts, she was almost hit by a car. If it wasn't for the driver managing to turn just in time, she would've been red paste on the road. As the months passed, it felt like the world was trying to kill her. Scaffolding had fell down when she was near, bricks tumbled from loose foundations, potholes in the floor threatened to trip her and bash her head in. But no matter what she managed to avoid all these instances of near death but they only grew harder and harder to avoid. After a particularly close call involving wet concrete, she had just left to search for somewhere less dangerous. Not willing to drive, she had walked through open fields, avoiding anything that could hurt her. The journey south to Cornwall (where she had visited on holiday once before) was exhausting, but safe. She didn't live in an apartment, or even a tent. She simply carried a bedroll and sleeping bag with her, sleeping far enough from the cliff edges but close enough to enjoy the view of the ocean.

Money was never an issue. She had inherited her parents' savings and seeing as she wasn't spending it on houses or bills; only food and the occasional spare set of clothes, she could keep the money going for a long time. Shopping was a dangerous affair. She was scared stiff of something happening she couldn't avoid. The first time she went shopping she had gone slowly, scanning every inch of the place. She must've looked paranoid… truth be told, she was.

She had been living essentially homeless ever since. Homeless… but safe. The sense of freedom was refreshing. She could do what she wanted, wherever she wanted. She could forget all about Eugene, Harold, the accident, everything. Sometimes she wondered if she should mourn more for her family and friends, but she could never do it. She just felt blank regarding them.

As the sand shifted under her bare feet, Sabrina sighed and sat down, ignoring the water washing past her. She looked into the stars and hugged herself tightly. "Why me?" She asked to no-one, her voice carried away by the faint wind. "Is this some kind of punishment? Because I avoided death? Am I to risk death for the rest of my life? I don't want that… I don't… I don't want that…" Tears suddenly appearing on her eyes, Sabrina hunched over in misery. "I don't know how much longer I can go on… I don't think… I don't think I can do this… let this end… let this end…"

Then she heard something. Heard an answer to her pleas, carried on the wind. She perked her head and the voice came again. She wasn't crazy. Something was definitely speaking to her. "What should I do?" She called out. Listening intently, she flinched. "Is that it? Is that the answer?" Sabrina paused and drew back. "Me? I'm not special, I'm… oh… oh, so that's why…" Sabrina looked back up at the night sky. "I see. I understand… Thank you. Thank… thank you! I can finally be free... I can…" Sabrina smiled. It felt like an age since she smiled. "I can be free again…"

* * *

**A/N:- First chapter up. This was probably my favorite prologue I've ever written. I enjoyed it a lot. Thanks for the cool characters, who'll I'll credit when introduced in the story. Note that you STILL can submit characters until the first real chapter is up. Since I believe characterisation is very important, the accident likely won't happen for three - five chapters? Something like that anywho. Let's have fun in this journey, shall we? Encore begins now and it's… gonna… be… wonderful *jazz hands to get into the musical spirit***

'**Till next time! **


	3. Over You

_2014_

_August 26__th__, Tuesday_

_07:43_

"…_and then he came up to me and hit on me, can you believe that? Just swaggers on up with that cocky smile of his and goes 'Hey there Maylene, you wanna… you know?'_

_ Jace smiled, knowing his girlfriend would never betray him like that. "And what did you do?" _

_ "I may have accidentally thrown my drink into his face." Maylene shrugged, her pretty blue eyes lighting up. "He left soaked, completely embarrassed. That'll teach him. Besides, he didn't know, but you're the one for me." Maylene leaned over the empty dinner table, placing her hand on Jace's hand. She smiled, showing bright white teeth. The two stared at each other before Maylene giggled and Jace chuckled. They both quickly got up off their chairs and jogged over to the stairs. Jace barely made it before Maylene tackled into him, locking lips. They stayed kissing for a few moments before Jace broke free, his face lit up. _

_ "I think… the bedroom'll be much more comfortable than the stairs." Jace breathed, although to be perfectly honest he could have taken Maylene right there and then. He climbed up the stairs and entered his bedroom, peeling off his shirt. Throwing to the side, he turned around as Maylene entered the room._

_ "WHY DON'T YOU LISTEN TO MY PROBLEMS!" Maylene screeched, her voice echoing around the room. Jace blinked, shocked. She held a wine bottle in her hand and she approached Jace. "It's not all about you Jace! I have my problems, I have my situations!" _

_ "Maylene, I-"_

_ "DON'T! Just don't say a word!" Maylene smashed the wine bottle on the drawer nearby, the red liquid spilling all over the floor. "I need to be taken care of! I need attention! My family ignores me, you ignore me, everyone ignores ME! I'm the important one here!" _

_ "I don't-" _

_ Maylene screamed in pure anger and whipped her hand forward, throwing the broken wine bottle hard through the air. Jace saw it coming but his feet were glued to the floor. The bottle shredded past his cheek, tearing it wide open. He yelled out in pain and fell back, blood spilling from the ragged wound. He pushed himself to a sitting position and his voice caught in his throat at the horror before him._

_ Swinging back and forth slowly, like a twisted pendulum, Maylene hung from the roof, a rope tight around her neck. Her neck was twisted to the right, the rope making a deep red mark in her flesh. _

_ "Maylene!" Jace ran towards her, the left side of his face covered in blood. As he approached, Maylene's head suddenly snapped straight, her dead eyes staring straight into his soul. _

_ "__**YOUR FAULT!**__"_

* * *

"Ah!" Jace Ryan jolted up from his bed, breathing hard. He blinked rapidly, sweat running down his face. Trying to get his breath under control, he stumbled from his bed, out of his room, and into the family bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he panted, trying to get the image out of his mind. After a few minutes, his breath finally under control, he slid down the wall, head in his hands, sobbing.

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. "Son?"

Jace blinked through his tears, looking up at the door. "D-Dad…"

"Are you… are you okay?"

Jace grit his teeth but couldn't lie to his father. "No… No, I'm not…"

"The door is unlocked… can I come in?"

Jace sniffed, wiping his bare arm over his eyes. "I guess…"

The door opened and William Ryan came into the room. He was about as tall as his son with the same dirty blonde hair, although Jace's was much darker. However he had a neat moustache compared to Jace's unshaven face. William looked down at his twenty-two year old son and sighed. Falling to one knee, he asked a question with one word. "Maylene?"

Nodding, Jace hugged his knees.

"Son…" William licked his lips. "It's been four months. I know that it's hard, I know, but… you cannot be like this."

"Like what?"

"I don't mean to insult… but you are a mess. You barely eat anything, you haven't shaved since it happened, and you don't take care of your clothes or yourself. I'm worried about you, son."

Jace nodded. He wasn't insulted but rather grateful for his father's honesty. However he didn't say a word, just stared at the floor. William sighed and stood up. "Come on downstairs, Jace. Your mother and I need to talk to you." His father left the room, the door shutting softly behind him.

After a few minutes, Jace climbed up to his feet. Looking into the mirror he could see that his father was right. His hair was all over the place and his lower face was covered in thin facial hair. His cheeks were gaunt and his eyes hollow. A slice of facial hair was missing, highlighting the ragged scar on his left cheek. Looking down from the mirror, he turned the tap on and splashed water on his face, the cold making him feel slightly better. The morning dream was drifting away from his memory now. The dream he could forget though, the actual event… Jace shook his head quickly and exited the bathroom, heading down the stairs and into the living room where his father and mother were waiting for him.

Jace took much of his father when his grew up, and only the blue eyes of his mother. Andrea Ryan had raven colored hair which was greying slightly with wrinkles starting to show on her face. She looked up at Jace as he entered. "Hello, Jace."

"Hello." Jace replied back. They never said 'good morning' or anything like that. Most of the time, Jace's mornings were never good. Jace sat down on the spare seat, facing his parents. He had a feeling he knew what they wanted to talk about. They probably wanted him to leave… a twenty-two year old shouldn't live with his parents if he isn't paying rent or helping around the house. If they asked that, he would leave without question. He knew it must be hard having a broken son around the house. He'd have to find somewhere to stay… he didn't have any friends anymore. He lost contact with them since it happened.

"Son… your mother and I have been thinking… we can't have you dragging yourself around the house like you have no soul." William leaned forward. "You are too good a man for that. It's heartbreaking to see you… melt away like this. We are your parents, we want the best for you."

_Here it comes… _

"We need you to be happy again." Andrea took over. "It pains us so to see you like this. We've… denied you this for three years… we simply couldn't afford it. But now we see that you need to be happy, and we believe that this is the last chance. If this doesn't work then… I don't know… we…" Andrea trailed off, biting her bottom lip.

"We'd have to find you some help." William finished off. Jace blinked. They were going to send him off to some kind of counsellor? "But neither of us want that. If we can solve this depression by ourselves then that's all for the better." William reached into his back pocket and pulled out two slips of paper. He placed them both on the table in front of him. Jace leaned down, confused. One was a plane ticket… to England? And the other was… Jace blinked in shock. "You… I thought…"

The ticket showed shadowy figures frozen in dance with purple lights shining down on them. Emblazoned across the ticket in big letters were the words: FOR THE PEOPLE 2014. Written underneath, in smaller letters, was the slogan: "Made by the people, with the people, for the people!"

Jace couldn't believe it. The For the People festival was something he had wanted to go to ever since the first year in 2010. Ever since Glastonbury Festival was cancelled, the For the People festival had replaced it bigger and better. Some of the biggest bands around the world performed at the For the People festival. Jace knew that the performers for the 2014 festival were some of the biggest names yet.. The world-famous rapper, Elijah Freemon. Charlie Walker "The Modern-Age Cowboy", and they had even secured the comeback of one of the most famous musicians, the man named Bridge. He had been gone for 12 years without a word - unless you count those rumours that he had performed in Japan in all those years. Just those three names had sold out tickets for the 200,000 strong festival. Not to mention all of the other bands and acts sure to be there. The For the People festival included amateurs as well as pros. As long as you have performed at least 10 times to a crowd with favourable results, you could apply for the festival and get your music noticed.

The reason Jace couldn't believe that his parents had gotten the tickets was the same reason they couldn't get them the three years before. They were far too expensive. The festival ticket itself was $360. Count in the plane ticket of Canada to the United Kingdom as another $840 and that was $1200 in total. Where had they got that kind of money?

"We've saved this up, Jace. We need you to be happy again. So please, will you accept this and go? See if you can find that happiness you once had? We know how much music used to mean to you…"

"I… thank you…" Jace had no more words than that. Of course he would go. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps taking this trip to the For the People festival would be just what he needed to clear his head.

_August 27__th, __Wednesday_

_14:06_

It had been a full night since the car park gates had opened and already they were filling up. Opening them at night allowed festivalgoers to arrive during hours where normal traffic wouldn't be too much of a problem. The first few cars arrived, followed by a steady stream which slowed but continued going all through the early hours of the morning. At eight o'clock the rain had started to fall just as the gates were opened to allow the festivalgoers inside the grounds to set up their tents. At nine o'clock the steady stream became a river of cars and vans, splattered with mud but filled with beaming faces.

"I still prefer London." Timothy Yalton grumped, hands shoved deep in his pockets and rain falling from the lip of his police hat. "At least there the rain doesn't make everything a damn bog."

"It's not all that bad." Carol Tearn replied. She had her arms crossed to try and ward off the cold, her ponytail slapping the back of her neck every time she turned, the rain weighing it down. Both officers - along with the others spread out by the entrance, had luminous green jackets over their normal black vests and ear-pieces snaking down past their collars.

"Tell that to my boots." Timothy lifted up one foot to demonstrate, mud falling from his ankles. The formerly black boots were now brown. "It'll take an age to clean these off."

They were standing by the Civilian Gate D, at the end of the White Route. People were happily chatting as they slogged through the mud with backpacks on their shoulders and bags in their hands. While the stream was steady, more and more people would start clogging up the paths as the days went on before the weekend.

"Why were we chosen, of all people?" Timothy continued to complain, scratching his cheek.

"Why not? We get a boost to our pay, so I don't see what the big deal is."

"The deal is mud!" Timothy exclaimed, watching the many different types of festivalgoers enter the ground.

"Look on the bright side then. At least we get to patrol in the car at night."

"Oh yeah, that's the bright side. Nothing like catching a night-time romp of sex-addled teenagers. I swear, kids these days…"

"Aw, Tim, they're not all that different from us when we were their age." Carol smiled. A faint blush rose in Timothy's cheeks and he merely grunted. "Besides, I'm more worried about drugs and cigarettes. I can't believe children as young as thirteen and fourteen smoke in plain sight, and the drinking is atrocious. I wish we could crack down on that more. If I ever caught my children…" Carol trailed off before she started ranting.

"I'm sure your kids won't be drawn into that world, not with a police officer as their mother."

"That's my worry though. Cindy's great but Olly? I fear that he doing the complete opposite just for the sake of not being like me."

"Ah, he'll be fine. I hear some officers show their kids drug dens and the seediest bars just to show them how much they'll ruin their lives."

"I guess I could do that, but I don't know… I guess I'll just wait it out. Hopefully he'll find some sense."

Timothy nodded. "He will, don't worry."

"How's your relationship with Mary going?" Carol inquired, watching a gaggle of Japanese pass through the gates, flashing their tickets. Most of the early arrivals were from other countries. The For the People festival had one of the most diverse fan bases; people all over the world came to watch their favorite bands.

"It's going good." Timothy replied, glancing down the path. "We're both nervous, so both of us make fools out of ourselves equally. But we've both faced loss in our lives… I think we both think that this can work."

"That's great. She's a great woman from what I've seen." Carol smiled, proud of Timothy. Timothy had lost his wife to a car accident only a year into their marriage. To make matters worse, Susan was pregnant. Timothy had been miserable for a long while. It took a while for Carol to push him to find happiness again. He met Susan on a dating website. She had a similar experience, losing her husband early in their marriage.

"I hope it works." Timothy muttered.

"It will." Carol smiled. "You two are perfect for each other." Carol couldn't help but feel slightly jealous to see Timothy moving on in his love life. Sometimes she needed a man in her life. But unlike Timothy, her marriage was ten years long before it fell apart. They had had two children before Jeff was stabbed in a mugging two years prior. She feared that if she found another man, Cindy and Olly would resent her. She needed to think of her children, even if it meant she spent her nights alone.

Timothy wasn't an option. Despite the fact they had had a fling in their early years, it was a relationship which could never work. Especially since Carol had gone to Timothy's doorstep two nights after her husband's death a wreck. The two spent the night together and Carol nor Timothy had ever forgiven themselves. It took a number of months before they could fix their friendship, but the love between them was not an option anymore.

Blinking away those memories, Carol concentrated back on the path with a heavy heart. This rain was making her depressed which wasn't a good thing. She tried to be friendly and smile but today was wearing down on her. It was probably just the stress of the festival. After the week was done, she'd be glad to head back to London and the metropolitan life.

Timothy glanced to Carol, seeing her deep in thought and knew what she was thinking about. Timothy could always tell what she was thinking, the way her face changed when her mind was on her family and the guilt that came with that day… Timothy was in the transition of dating websites when Carol had appeared at his door. His guilt was that he took advantage of a mentally exhausted Carol. He should have rejected those advances, should have kept her from making that mistake. Instead he ruined any chance to get back together with her. Because no matter how much he liked Mary, his first love was still his only love… He should have comforted her, taken it slow, been sensitive and let her take the lead.

Timothy sighed quietly and looked up at the wet grey skies. The day had gotten a whole lot more miserable.

* * *

_**A/N:- First real chapter, oooh! Thanks to I'mtheAlphahearmeRoar and Yajuu-Kikuishi for the Prologue reviews, and thanks to you all for the character submissions! So, the Character Sheet is now CLOSED and I can announce that there will be 18 on the list! That's right, a wopping 18! It's a lot but I reckon I can make it work. **_

_**Jace Ryan belongs to A Mosaic Masterpiece, while Susan (and Timothy) are my on. There will be eight more chapters before the vision, so, yay! Characterization! **_

_**Finally, a fun note, all chapter titles will be named after songs which relate to the theme of the chapter.**_

'_**Till next time! **_


	4. Let it Be

**A/N:- Oookay, I was not expecting that much trouble with these two characters. Sorry for the delay, won't happen again anytime soon. After a couple re-writes, I'm happy with what I got. Read on! **

_August 28__th__, Thursday_

_14:02_

"And this afternoon, we have a very talented guest. None other than world-famous rapper, Elijah Freemon!"

"Thank you, Abby, thank you."

"So, Elijah, you're going to be performing at the For the People festival this weekend, are you not?"

"That I am. It is gonna be a great time for all."

"Have you got any hints of your plans for your performance?"

"Hahaha, I can't just reveal all of my secrets, Abby, y'know that. Nah, I'm kidding, though, I'll give you some hints. Get you all excited for the festival, yeah? Well, without saying exactly what's gonna happen, I'll have a new song for you guys. It's called 'Freedom of the Birds." I'm not gonna say any more than that, though, so if you want to hear it you're gonna have to come on down to the festival."

"Freedom of the Birds? That sounds awfully poetic, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does. But poems and music go hand in hand, to be honest. Both can have messages and that's what I'm all about, messages to the people out there who need that boost of confidence and help."

"Is Freedom of the Birds going to be your only new song at the festival?"

"Yeah it is. But I got some of my favorite songs that I've performed over my career as well. I'm gonna keep which ones a surprise, though."

"I'll guess we'll have to keep a close eye on the festival to find out which songs you are going to perform. We've had some other performers over the week here, and we've all asked them the same question so I'm going to ask you that same question. What does the For the People festival mean to you?"

"Man, the For the People festival is exactly my kind of festival. I mean, just listen to the slogan: Made by the people, with the people, for the people! That is my life, Abby, "For the people." For all of us who are miserable in life, all of us who've been pushed down and spat out. My music is to get those people up, to get them happy, to show them that life means everything, even if the current circumstances ain't agreeable. And that's what the For the People festival is all about. It's about music, it's about giving that joy of music to everyone out there who needs it, and even for those who don't. But for me? The For the People festival is a door to get my word out further and further. People all over the world are gonna be hearing me, and I want them to hear my message, to heed my words, to understand the worth of life and happiness, y'know?"

"Strong words, indeed. Elijah, over your career you've been focused on helping people, specifically children who have rough lives. Is it all right to ask where this stems from?"

"It's perfectly, fine, Abby. It ain't no secret - and that's the whole point, this kind of stuff, it shouldn't be a secret, you gotta get somebody to listen to you, you gotta take it in your own hands and get these people who punish and hurt you out of your lives. Back when I was a small boy down in New York, my dad was a drunk, plain and simple. He'd go out every night, gambling away our livelihood, ruining me and my mom's life. He comes back, smelling of Gin, or Whiskey, or whatever the heck it was he happened to be drinking that night. He'd beat us, smack me and my mom around. It wasn't until I was eighteen when I decided enough was enough. And, well, we all know what happened then. I didn't go to the authorities, I didn't go to my friends or anything like that, I made the worst mistake of my life and I fought back against my dad… I was charged for fifteen years in prison for manslaughter. Fifteen years of my life, wasted away."

"…and that was when you decided what to do with your life, correct?"

"Correct, Abby. Fifteen years is a long time to think, and think I did. I didn't want others to do what I did. I didn't wants kids being sent to prison for fighting back. But I knew that fighting back physically ain't the way to go. So I started to figure out what I was gonna do. When I was finally let out into the world, I started rapping. I started to send my message out to all. I made a huge mistake in trying to fight my dead without contacting anyone. All I wanted was to protect me and my mother, but the law doesn't see it like that, and that's fair enough. That's my message: Get help. You're not alone. Even if you think you are, you are not, there will be people to help you out. Don't give up and don't make the mistakes I made."

"Wow… I think many of us agree with the message you send. Something a lot of our viewers have asked is something which is peculiar with you, in the nicest sense possible. Unlike a lot of rappers, you don't swear or have any sort of vulgar images in your work."

"That's a good point, Abby. Rap gets a bad rap, no pun intended. You see these guys from the streets, with their songs about sex, drugs, and death. That's not cool, man. They are ruining the lives of children who listen to them looking for an out. They hear that drugs are cool, that drinking is cool, but all that happens is it ruins them. Nah, I don't swear, I don't need to. My message is loud and clear without that kind'a stuff. I don't need these shock tactics, these rebellions against authority."

"So, Elijah, some of our viewers have asked for your opinion on some of the other headline acts, namely Charlie Walker and Bridge."

"Man, Charlie Walker is a cool guy. You can see that he enjoys what he does, that music is his life. I'm not the greatest fan of country music, but despite that I know that guy can sing. It ain't no surprise that he has risen such as he has. And Bridge? I can't say I know much about him, I mean, 12 years ago he was workin' with all sorts of bands out there. Now he's back and apparently he's gonna be playing solo, so I have no clue what to expect, y'know? I have no clue what kind of music he's going to be playing, even. He's a mysterious guy."

"Thank you, Elijah. It's been a pleasure to talk to you."

"A pleasure for me, as well."

"Good luck at the Festival, I'm sure many are looking forward to your debut of Freedom of the Birds. Well, folks, next up we read out some opinions of the mysterious Bridge, and whether or not he really is the Japanese star, Ryoushi, as many rumors state. All that will be after this break."

_August 28__th__, Thursday_

_22:10_

Night had fallen over the For the People festival grounds, but there was still a buzz of excitement and expectation in the air. Lights punctured the darkness throughout as people sat outside their tents, talking in hushed tones, beers in hand, talking about the day's happenings. While the main stages didn't open until Saturday, a number of smaller stages had already had a few lesser-known acts play. The main acts would be headlining on the Pyramid, with Elijah Freemon performing on Saturday evening, Charlie Walker on Sunday afternoon, and the final act of Bridge performing on Sunday evening.

"Oh, come the hell on, classical?" In the middle of the Michael Mead camping ground, a group of four young men were sat facing each other outside of their pale blue tent. Gordon slapped his hand on the hand. "Are you kidding?"

"What's so wrong with classical?" Corey Walker asked, adjusting his beanie to keep his ears warm in the wet and chill air. The rain had subsided for the night, luckily. Chances are that it would resume just in time for Saturday, though. Corey Walker was the tallest of the group of four, his frame disguised by his baggy jeans and hoody. His hand was constantly fiddling with a silver necklace - a cross with a pair of angel wings behind it - as he listened to his group of friends. He looked at them with one eye, his other hidden by a long clump of brown hair that reached to his shoulders. A smile played on his lips as he listened to the argument at hand.

Gordon was second tallest, a well-muscled man with a small scruff of beard. He was very pushy but was a good friend never the less. James claimed he was taller than Carl, although Carl was adamant they were the same height. James seemed to always have a fedora atop his head, despite the fact his friends didn't think it looked good. Carl always had his head in his phone, either texting his girlfriend or playing games.

The group of four had travelled across by plane from Ohio, Gordon buying each of them tickets for both the plane and the festival, his father being a well-paid football player. It was something they had been looking forward to for a long time.

"It isn't real music!" Gordon contained to argue, throwing his arms around to exaggerate his point. "You got to go with rock or rap or even pop. Classical is so… clinical, so refined. There's no freedom to it!"

"That is not true." James argued back, glaring out from under the brim of his fedora. "Classical gives you more feelings than any of them combined. It doesn't need lyrics to make its point. And besides, I heard Emma Fischer is going to be playing tomorrow, so there's all the more reason to listen to classical."

"Who's Emma Fischer?" Corey asked, leaning back on his hands.

"Of course you won't know who she is, Corey," Gordon smirked. "No one knows the names of classical musicians."

"She is one of the best classical musicians in all of Germany, I'll let you know."

"I'll take your word for it…" Gordon shook his head in pity before looking at Corey. "That doesn't change the fact that we're not going to listen to classical tomorrow, are we, Corey?"

"Don't be so judgemental, Gordon. I mean, I don't usually listen to classical, but we can give it a try. Maybe it'll be good, you never know."

"Oh lord, you too? Why did I choose you two as my friends again?"

"Our good looks?" Corey replied, flicking his hair dramatically.

"Hah! You two are as ugly as sin, so it can't be that." Gordon looked to Carl, whose face was illuminated by his mobile phone. "What about you, Carl?"

It took Carl a few seconds to look up and shrug, his blue eyes flicking down to his screen as he talked. "I don't mind either way. All music is good - just in different ways."

"I can see when I'm outnumbered…" Gordon sighed.

"You do realize that you don't have to come with us, right?" Corey put in, taking a sip of coke.

"And _you _do realize how easy it is to lose each other at festivals, especially one as big as this. I have no desire to run around trying to spot your girly hair in a crowd."

"At least my hair doesn't look like a bird lives in it." Corey shot back, looking pointedly at the mess of hair atop Gordon's head.

"Touché." Gordon took a deep gulp from his bottle and pulled out a small slip of paper, which simply said: Gordon Joseph, Contest Slip. "So, did we all sign up for that contest? I sure did."

Carl glanced sharply up from his phone. "What contest? I didn't see anything like that when we arrived."

"That's 'cause you never pay any attention to your surroundings." James lightly slapped the back of Carl's head. "I did as well. Corey?"

"Mmhmm." Corey nodded, pulling out his own slip.

"Are you going to explain what this contest is, or shall I just remain ignorant?" Carl asked, placing his phone in the top pocket of his shirt, irritation in in voice.

Gordon sighed. "Alright. Eight randomly selected people will get to visit a studio in London on Monday, meet the three headline acts, and hear a song performed in the studio by each of them. They even threw in a free hotel stay for Sunday night."

Carl's eyes widened. "Woah… how the hell did I miss that? I need to sign up for that. I'll do it first thing tomorrow." Carl nodded to himself. "I take it you mean Charlie Walker, Elijah Freemon, and Bridge, right?"

"No, the three _other _headline acts…" Gordon rolled his eyes. "Of course I mean them." He glanced around the small group. "So, let me throw out another question. Which of those three d'you reckon will be the coolest to meet?"

"Bridge." Corey said immediately, grinning widely. "He's a damn straight genius. A literal genius of music. I listen to him all the time back home."

"That's mighty impressive, considering he performed 12 years ago. Are you telling me you listened to him when you were five years old?" James asked with a snort.

"I got his CD's, doofus." Corey replied. "Well, the CD's of the bands he performed with, anyway. He was great at whatever instrument he played. Drums, guitar, bass, singing, whatever it was he was perfect at it. It's a damn shame he disappeared for so long. But why the heck do you think I'm here? I'm here for Bridge's first solo act. It is going to simply be amazing. I really want to meet him. He has to be a cool, laid back guy, like all Rock Stars are."

"…somebody's in love." Gordon whistled under his breath.

"Hey, the guy's my hero! His music's made me feel better when I was done." Corey protested. "Well then, why did you sign up for the contest, Gordon? Enlighten us."

"Isn't it obvious? If I can get three of the biggest music acts autograph's on one thing, I can sell it online for profit, dudes."

"You are a horrible person…" Carl shook his head.

"And everyone loves me for it." Gordon smiled. "And you, James? Why'd you sign up?"

"Elijah Freemon. The man has a message. I would love to see how he is up close, you know?"

"Come on, the guy is nothing more than a preacher trying to throw his ideas on the rest of us."

"Are you saying you WANT kids to suffer in their homes?" James said, "because that's his message, to help those that are suffering. You really are a dick."

"Ah, screw you." Gordon flicked a casual middle finger up at James. "He just sounds like a preacher to me."

"You-" James started to argue back but Corey quickly interrupted him.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Corey said, putting his arm out. "You're going to need all that energy for the weekend."

"True. I'm gonna need it for the girls I meet out here."

James blinked. "Dude, what about Maddy back home?"

"What happens in England is gonna stay in England. It's just a fling, man, nothing serious."

James sighed. "You… Maddy will kill you if she finds out."

"Well, she's not gonna find out unless one of you guys tell her. And you guys won't. So, it's all good in the neighbourhood. Besides, this festival is all about having fun. And we're all going to have fun at this event now, aren't we? If that means a few girls or maybe a couple'a 'illegal' substances on the side, then so be it."

"You can count me out of your illicit activities." Corey shook his head. "I'm just going to enjoy the music out here, maybe meet some new friends. Someone to replace you, for sure."

"No-one can replace me, don't kid around." Gordon smiled widely. "No one has my charm, my good looks, or my wit."

"Oh yeah, you're sooo witty." Corey shook his head before yawning. "Oh, man. Well, I'm gonna get some sleep. The weekend's gonna be big. I'm probably not going to get any sleep tomorrow, anyway. 'Night."

**A/N:- Thanks to Grojbandian180 for the review, and also credit to Corey Walker goes to him. Elijah Freemon is my own character. Hopefully that first part worked, I wanted to try something new for a radio sequence, so I did only voices. I've done a lot of changes to my future plot, and decided to get some of characters (ONLY characters that were my own or the guest's.) So to that guest who submitted like, five characters, I'm only using two of them as part of the list, that being Charlie Walker and Adam (Zoe is still there). We've now got 14 on the list, which is all cool.**

**Anywho, 'till next time, which WON'T be long, I promise. **


	5. Woman in Chains

_August 30__th__, Saturday_

_07:58_

"Harder, Eddy, Harder!"

"Mm... Mm… Mm…"

"That's it, right there, that's it, do it, do it!"

The combined sighs of satisfaction filled the trailer as Eddy Cool pulled himself from his girlfriend, Felicity Peters, and stared face up at the ceiling, panting lightly. He turned to look at Felicity whose expression was soft. "I told you that would wake you up for today."

"It sure did." Eddy ran a hand through his light blonde hair, the sweat slicking it backwards. "Best wakeup call bar none, I'd say."

Felicity snaked her hand around Eddy's bare chest and pulled her naked body closer to him. "What's the plan?"

"The plan is I'm gonna have to force myself to get up from this bed and not fuck you all over again." Eddy flashed a bright smile and sat up, swinging his legs from the bed. "Then I need to talk to my kids and then we'll be heading out to the Pyramid. I got to let two-hundred thousand strong hear my voice." Standing up, Eddy walked over to the bathroom door, leaving it open as he turned the shower on. He raised his voice over the sound of water hitting bare skin. "I don't think you've seen my kids, have you?"

"You never talk about them." Felicity replied, standing up from the bed herself and stretching her arms up high. She walked over to the bathroom and joined Eddy in the shower, curling her arms around his stomach.

"I must have at least talked about them."

"Nope."

"Well, I wanted to introduce them to you anyway. I don't want you to be a stranger who accompanies their daddy."

"I'd love to." Placing her chin on his shoulder, Felicity trailed across his chest. "Are you going to tell me the story about your wife?"

"Ex-wife. And I will, don't worry. It's just something private and I want to make sure what we have is real."

"It _is _real, Eddy. I love you."

"I know, I know. I love you too, Felicity, but I simply can't just devote my past to someone I've known for three months, no matter who they are." Eddy lightly pulled Felicity in front of him, holding her wrists lightly. Water poured through her hair, curving past her cheeks and dripping off her chin. "You understand, don't you?"

"I do. I'm not going to force you." Felicity nodded. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddy looked at Felicity with another soft smile and let go of her hands. "Thank you." He leaned forward and pecked her on the lips. "Now, you are really tempting me, you know that?"

"Nothing wrong with a bit of temptation… besides, you don't have to leave for another hour anyway… and since we're in here, we won't have to shower again."

"Peer pressure is a bad thing, Ms. Peters."

"Not when it leads to pleasure." Felicity lowered her hand downward, her fingers lightly circling his belly-button and down past his waist. Eddy closed his eyes with a soft groan as Felicity started stroking.

"You… make a compelling… argument… Mmm…"

* * *

Pulling on a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, Eddy noticed the look of Felicity, who herself was dressed in jeans with a black t-shirt with the words 'Pantheon' written across it, one of the bands that were performing at the For the People Festival. "What?"

"You're not wearing that today, are you?"

"Only until I get to the dressing room, don't worry. Diana'll be dressing me up when I get there." Eddy sat down on a sofa in front of his large TV. He had set everything up for a video phone call to his children. "Come on, sit down." Eddy patted next to him. Felicity hesitated a moment, something Eddy didn't miss. "What's wrong?"

"I… I don't want to feel like I'm intruding." Felicity said quietly.

"Intruding? You won't be intruding, don't be-"

"But these are your kids, there used to your wife, not-"

"My ex-wife did not care for them." Eddy said quietly, his voice completely changed from his usual cheery demeanour. "They never knew her…" Eddy quickly shook his head, a smile back on his face. "Anyway, they'll be glad to see you, I promise."

"Okay…" Felicity took a breath and sat down next to Eddy just as he clicked the call button for the program. A few seconds later, the screen appeared, showing an old-styled sofa with dark colors. Sitting on the floor with her back against it was Rose, his young twelve year old. Sitting on the right side of the sofa was Aiden, a fifteen year-old with a mop of black hair. Sitting next to Aiden was the oldest of Eddy's children, Isabella. At twenty-one, she had acted as the mother figure for her siblings.

"Hey kids. Can you hear me?"

"It's working, we can hear you." Isabella responded, her eyes already narrowed in curiousity at Felicity.

"Hey dad." Aiden said, his voice scratchy but a smile was on his face, almost a mirror image of Eddy's own. Rose gave a little wave, obviously shy in front of the stranger in Felicity.

"Are you being taken care of by your big sister?" Eddy asked.

"I make 'em get to school on time, dad, don't worry. Speaking of which, they're going to have to leave soon. Why didn't you wait until after school?" Isabella asked.

"Sorry, Izzy, you know I'm gonna be busy all weekend. I just wanted to check in with you and also, well, also introduce Felicity. Kids… this is my girlfriend."

Isabella's eyes widened slightly in surprise, while Aiden seemed concerned and Rose not really affected. It took a moment for Isabella to regain her composure. "G-Girlfriend?"

"Yes." Eddy nodded. He had not been looking forward to this moment but he knew he had to introduce Felicity sooner than later. Aiden and Rose would be fine, but Isabella… she was old enough to remember her mother well. Eddy watched her face, before it finally lit up with a smile.

"That's great, dad. That's really wonderful. Hello Felicity, I hope my dad's treating you well."

"He's a real gentleman." Felicity replied with a nervous smile.

Aiden snorted. "Dad's never been a gentleman. You can tell the truth, we know how sloppy he can be."

"Hey hey now, no embarrassing me in front of Felicity now, guys, okay?" Eddy chuckled, he leaned forward with a playful whisper. "I'm trying to impress her."

"How long have you been together?" Isabella asked, crossing her arms. Eddy could see her checking Felicity out, trying to spot any fault in her.

"Going on three months now. I'm sorry I kept it a secret."

"You don't need to apologize." Isabella said firmly. "As long as you're happy, dad." She glanced at something off camera. "Well, I got to take these guys to school. Have fun at the Festival dad. Take some pictures for me. Oh, and see if you can get an autograph of Elijah Freemon to give to Rose, she has a little crush on him."

"I-I-Izzy!" Rose's face turned beet-red as Isabella laughed.

"Hah, get one for me while you're at it, won't you?"

"Sure will."

"Cool. Well dad, we'll see you on Monday. Bring Felicity over, we can introduce ourselves probably."

"I'd like that." Felicity put in.

"Alright then. Have fun at school, guys. Bye." With a wave, Eddy ended the call and leaned back with a sigh of relief. "Oh man, I'm so glad they like you…"

"They're nice kids."

"They sure are. Well then, we ought to get going. Got a big weekend ready for us."

Felicity nodded, standing up and heading for the door. With her not looking, Eddy quickly reached under the sofa and pulled out a small box, slipping it into his pocket. He followed behind Felicity, a big grin on his face.

_10:00_

"Welcome, one and all, to the For the People Festival!" The voice rang out over the Pyramid stadium, throwing itself out over the massive sea of people in front of it. At the sound of that voice, the crowd erupted into cheers, hands waving in the early morning air, ignoring the light drizzle dripping from the sky. One of these many, many people was Ruby Ascot, cheering as loud as the best of them, her curly pink hair sticking out like a sore thumb. Along with the thousands of people in front of the Pyramid Stage, she watched as the host, Eddy Cool, jogged onto the stage, hair slicked back and dressed in a sparkly black suit. He slid to the front of the stage, a wide smile on his face.

"I said… welcome! Let me hear your voices!" He roared out. The crowd responded wildly, ready for a day of music. "Over the weekend we are gonna have a massive amount of stars performing on this stage and the last couple of days have featured a number of amateur acts on the various stages around here. Some talented amateurs are going to be performing on this pyramid stage as well as the professionals we all know and love. Let me throw a couple of names out there. Charlie Walker!" The crowd cheered again, deafeningly loud. "Elijah Freemon!" Once again the crowd cheered, louder even that Charlie Walker's reaction. "And the long-awaited return of the man known as Bridge!" This time the cheers were the loudest, every single person in the 200,000 strong crowd cheering Bridge's name. Eddy waited a moment before speaking back into the microphone. "Let me introduce myself. I am going to be your host - although this is the only time you're probably going to pay attention to me. My name is Eddy Cool and yes, that is my real name. I don't want to take up much of your time, but I am obliged to remind you that the deadline for the contest is twelve o'clock this afternoon, so if you want one of the headline acts and tour some studios you better get going!"

Ruby shouted into the crowd, her voice falling on ignored ears, "I got one! I got one!" She waved her ticket in the air, giddy with excitement. This festival was something she had been looking forward to for a long time. She had saved up money for the flight over as well as the festival tickets themselves. She would love to meet the headline acts, to get their autographs, to make this trip even better than it already was.

"Enough of me!" Eddy said, walking backwards. "Let us hear it for the first act of the weekend on the Pyramid, the pop-rock band Pantheon!"

Ruby cheered loudly again with the crowd. The Pantheon were one of her favorite acts performing at the festival, known for their upbeat songs. As she raised her arm to cheer when she felt her fist impact something softly. Her head quickly snapped to her side where a woman crumpled to the floor.

"Oh God, I'm-" Ruby started before noticing a small stream of blood leak from the woman's nose. Ruby blinked for a moment, before her legs collapsed from under her and darkness overtook her eyes.

* * *

Blinking away the blackness, Ruby sat up straight, wondering why her head was hurting. Looking around briefly she noticed she was in some kind of medical area. She could hear the buzz of the crowd and pulses of music outside the walls, loud even in the building.

"You hit hard, you know that?"

Ruby looked to the bed next to her where the woman she had accidently struck was sitting up, her nose swollen slightly. She was pretty, with long auburn hair and blue eyes. The beauty was only marred by a scar on her lip, a blotch on her otherwise smooth face. Ruby rubbed the back of her head, smiling sheepishly. "Oh boy, I'm sorry… I should've looked where I was moving my arms."

"Don't worry about it. It's only a fracture." The woman extended her hand across the aisle to Ruby's bed. "Sabrina Holland."

Ruby grasped the hand. "Ruby Ascot. Are you sure you're alright?"

Sabrina shrugged. "I've had worse." Her finger quickly brushed the scar on her lip before she smiled. "You don't like the sight of blood?"

"No… I never did. I guess I fainted, huh. Blood just freaks me out, y'know?"

"I understand. I've known others who didn't like blood."

"This is a great way to spend the morning of the first proper day of the festival." Ruby laughed out loud, leaning back on her bed. "I bet I missed Pantheon performing and all."

"I'm sorry." Sabrina shrugged. "Were they who you were most looking forward to?"

"Oh, don't you apologize. I like their music but it's not the biggest of deals. Besides, this is more exciting, isn't it? Nothing like meeting someone you nearly broke the nose of."

"That's one way of looking at it, I guess." Sabrina crossed her arms. "I've been told to stay here for another hour or so to make sure I don't get any headaches. You can probably leave whenever you want to, after checking in with the nurse."

"Nah. I caused that, it's the least I can do to stay here. You don't mind, do you?"

Sabrina shook her head. "I'd welcome the company." Sabrina blinked as Ruby pushed herself up from the bed and sat down on Sabrina's own. "You are… American, aren't you?"

"That's right. I came on down from Baltimore. Technically I got a bit of Spanish in me, but I've never been to Spain so I don't think that counts. Are you English?"

"Yep. No special blood in me, just pure English." Sabrina replied.

"Hey, what's up with your scar, by the way?" Ruby asked, pointing to Sabrina's lip.

"That's a bit straightforward." Sabrina frowned slightly. "We've just met and you're already asking personal questions."

"I don't mean anything by it; it's just interesting, is all. Usually people would use make-up to cover it."

Sabrina sighed, stroking the scar. "Covering this would be covering my past. This scar serves as a reminder of what I've done…" Sabrina trailed off, her eyes unfocused.

"You alright?" Ruby asked, nudging Sabrina. Sabrina quickly blinked.

"I'm fine, sorry. Maybe I'm still woozy from your errant punch. You want to see a cooler scar?" Sabrina grinned as she leant downwards, pulling her left trouser leg up, revealing a jagged scar about four inches long. "It's too bad I can't show this one off."

"You could wear shorts." Ruby suggested, inspecting the scar. "What happened? Are both scars from the same incident?"

"Yes… Luckily I wasn't injured too seriously." Rolling the trouser leg back down, Sabrina looked pointedly at Ruby. "Well, I've let you see my scars. Do you have any you can show me?"

"I got one on my butt but you probably don't want to see that one." Ruby giggled. "Otherwise, I don't have anything like that."

"What about your hair, then? Why did you dye it pink?"

"Why not? It's a pretty colour so why _not _have it pink?"

"I guess I can't argue with that reasoning." Sabrina replied, amused. "But even so, it can't just be because it's a pretty colour."

"It's a symbol of freedom." Ruby said. "I don't care what society thinks of me. I don't lie to myself, I simply _be _myself. If that means pink hair, then so be it. So many people get shackled down by opinions. I think you understand that yourself, since you don't cover up that scar."

"Freedom is a nice thing…" Sabrina sighed. "But I'm not free… even though I don't have to worry anymore about that… I'll never be free…"

"Of course you can be free." Ruby said confidently. "Anyone can be free if they so desire it."

"You don't understand, that just doesn't work for me." Sabrina said quietly.

Ruby reached over and grabbed her hands, staring her in the eyes. "Don't be so down on yourself, Sabrina. No matter what shackles you down, you can slip out of them."

Sabrina pulled her hands away, eyes dark. "Some shackles are too tight to slip out of, Ruby. The more you try to pull yourself out of them, the tighter they get. The freedom you seem to have… that just isn't an option."

**A/N:- Thanks to I'mtheAlphahearmeRoar x2 and GrojBandian180 for the reviews! I appreciate 'em!**

**Okey Dokey, Eddy Cool belongs to me and Ruby Ascot belongs to I'mtheAlphahearmeRoar. Okay, so Sabrina arrives in the main story. What's happened to her since that fateful day at the beach? Answers will come. We're just about halfway through character introductions, so thanks for being patient! I just wanna make sure you're going to care about the characters I'm going to slaughter without remorse XD**

'**Till next time!**


	6. You and Me

_August 30__th__, Saturday_

_13:45_

Lily Talbot pressed her back against the front of the van, keeping one ear towards the voices.

"I haven't seen him at all; he never comes out of his room."

"What does he do about food?"

"Calls on room service, I expect. I almost believe that he isn't even here and he's gonna stand us all up."

"Don't be stupid. Bridge doesn't break promises, that much I know."

"He disappeared for twelve years, Eddy, doesn't that tell you how reliable he is?"

"He never said he wouldn't disappear, John. Trust me, he'll perform when his time comes, I promise you."

"I hope your right. We'll probably get a riot if he doesn't perform. And get sued for false advertising to top it off."

"It won't come to that. I gotta go. Don't worry, John, it'll be fine."

At the sound of footsteps coming closer to her position, Lily quickly moved between the van and the wall, watching the host, Eddy Cool, walk away. Walking through the gap between the van and the wall, Lily saw the other man, John, push open a back door into the Pyramid backrooms. As soon as he disappeared, Lily lunged forward with practiced steps, light as a leaf, her fingers pushing the door just before it closed behind John. She waited a few seconds, the door barely open to let John disappear, before pushing it open. Allowing it to shut behind her, Lily walked down the empty corridor, her footsteps quiet.

She turned a number of corridors but quickly doubled back when she heard more footsteps. She slipped through a nearby bathroom door and put her ear to the door. The footsteps headed straight for her. With a smile of exhilaration, Lily waited a few seconds for the door to open. As soon as it started moving, she slid behind the door, watching another man head towards a stall. Without touching the door, she slithered through, the door shutting softly behind her. Continuing on through the corridors, she kept looking at the nameplates outside the doors. Only the most famous musical acts got their own rooms and Lily was looking for a specific nameplate.

"You gotta do what you gotta do, y'know?"

At the sound of the voices coming towards her, Lily smoothly changed her stature, standing as tall as her 5'6" frame would allow her. She strode forward as if with a purpose, right past the two men. She greeted them with a curt nod, looking as if she ought to be there. The two men didn't even give her vibrant appearance a second look. A pair of heavy black boots reaching up to her knees under a red tartan skirt held at her waist with a black leather belt adorned with metal plates. A black t-shirt was strategically ripped to show a white t-shirt underneath, both cut her to show off a toned stomach. Over this all she wore a denim jacket with an eagle emblazoned on the back with black imitation-diamond. Her hair was braided and pushed back over her head, hanging down to her shoulders; each braid had colored wires snaking their way up to her forehead, all of them different colors. As they disappeared behind her, Lily had to resist the urge to laugh. Make yourself seem like one of a group, no one would look twice. It was almost too easy to sneak in the Pyramid.

Another minute and she had finally arrived at her destination, a lone door labelled 'Bridge'. She grasped the handle and tried to open the door silently, but was simply met with a 'click'. The door was locked.

"Of course it is…" Lily muttered. Without waiting any more at the door she worked her way through the corridors until she could see the busy backstage area working tirelessly to make sure everything was working. Eddy Cool was standing with his back to her, talking on his phone trying to get away from the action.

"After I come back from the contest tour, I wanna take you to dinner, okay? Something special, something nice… can't I treat you sometimes? Heh, thanks. It won't be too expensive, don't worry, and I'll pay for it anyway."

As Eddy chatted away on his phone, Lily crept forward, two fingers extended in front of her. She slipped them into his pocket and fished out a bunch of keys, Eddy none the wiser. The clinking was lost over the sound of the current band performing on the stage. Keys in hand, Lily headed back for Bridge's room. It didn't take long to find the right key and the door clicked open. She slid the keys back into her pocket and opened the door to Bridge's room, sneaking quietly in.

The room was bare unlike other musician's rooms she had seen. The only thing that had been used was the desk and mirror. His instruments must have been stored somewhere else. However, Bridge was nowhere to be seen. Hearing the door shut behind her, Lily frowned. "Now where _are_ you?" She muttered, putting her hands on her hips. All that effort to get in here and he wasn't even present?

"You just keep on following me, don't you?"

At the sound of that smooth voice, Lily nearly jumped out of her skin. Spinning around she found Bridge standing straight where the door would have hidden him. Bridge peered down from above at Lily. Lily was always impressed with how tall he was. It was as if he had once been stretched in a torture rack standing at 7'2". He legs and arms were long and lanky, his whole frame thin and covered in dark clothing. He wore skin-tight leather trousers, tucked into knee high leather boots that had thick soles which boosted him even higher than his naturally tall height. Three different chains hung from his belt, each a different length and each with a different metal design on them - a metal fang, a cross-hair and a miniature sword. Underneath a long leather duster coat he wore a tight leather vest, fastened with metal clasps. He reached out with a hand, covered in fingerless leather gloves complete with metal plates on the back of the gloves, and placed it on Lily's shoulder.

"So you follow me, even from Japan?"

Lily grinned wide. "That's right. You look really different from when I last saw you, Gerald."

"Do _not _call me that." Bridge growled, his eyes narrowing. To anyone other than Lily, Gerald's face would have scared them senseless, but Lily thought it was just cool. He wore red snake-eye contacts on his eyes with black hair swept behind his head and tucked behind his ears, framing his thin, sharp face. The only hair which covered his face were three separate braids on the left side of his face. One reached his eye, another at his mouth, and the third touched his collar bone. Each had beads on the end - the shortest with three, the middle had five, and the longest had seven.

"Why not, Gerald? It's a great name for you, don't you think?" Lily shrugged off his hand and skipped over to the wheeled wooden chair next to the desk and sat down, spinning around. "It's not like I'm gonna tell anyone. Besides, it's you who spilled those beans. I just thought you looked like a Gerald."

"That's what you say. I want to know how you really knew."

"It's not a conspiracy, Gerald, geez."

"You need to leave. I am not one to chat."

"You're chatting just fine, aren't you? I'm sure you appreciate a tiny bit of company."

"Not from the likes of you."

"Don't be like that. Are you gonna call security? I'd like to see that, the oh so mighty Bridge calling on goons like that." Lily grinned, continuously spinning around on the chair.

"I'll get you out myself." Bridge stepped forward, reaching for her but she just pushed off the chair, escaping his reach. "Stop playing around."

"I'm just sitting down, you're the one playin' around. Not that I mind, mind you. Soooo… what're you playing tonight? Tarento O Motteumareta? Wairudo? Or something a little less Japanese?"

"Do I look like I going to perform Japanese Pop?" Bridge said then narrowed his eyes again. "Now leave before I make you."

"You couldn't make me if you tried. And what is up with that getup, anyway? Are you going Emo on me, Gerald? Are you having emotional problems? I can help… probably."

"That's it. You need to leave." Bridge reached for Lily, but Lily just leaped off her chair and ducked under his arms and leant against the wall. Bridge turned around, anger clear on his face. "You need to stop this and get the hell out of here."

Lily just laughed. "For a supposed genius you get awfully hot-headed, don't you?"

"You are the only person who can annoy me like this." Bridge grated his teeth together and opened his mouth just as a knock on the door echoed out.

"Bridge? It's Eddy. I was just making sure you're still okay with being there for the contest reward?"

"Sure he is!" Lily called out with a smile. Bridge twitched slightly. He didn't need people to think he was holing up in his room with a girl.

"Wha… who's that? You know you're not allowed visitors without prior approval, Bridge."

Bridge crossed his arms. "Come and take her away, Eddy. She intruding on the premises."

The door opened and Eddy looked from Lily to Bridge.

"Don't listen to him, Eddy, he's just being shy. I'm his daughter!"

"What?" Both Bridge and Eddy looked at Lily, both taken aback. Taking the chance, Lily sprinted past Eddy, slamming the door behind them. Both heard the click of the door locking. Eddy quickly reached into his pocket and blanched. "My keys! She stole my keys!" Eddy tested the door but found it was indeed locked. "Son of a-…"

"Out of the way."

Eddy moved just in time as Bridge slammed his foot into the door, ripping it open. Bridge stepped outside, looking left and right down the hallway, but Lily was nowhere to be seen.

"You can't do that! That's gonna cost me-"

"I want you to find her." Bridge snapped, glaring down at Eddy. Eddy gulped and nodded.

"I'll get security right on it."

_14:00_

Backstage behind the massive black curtain which cut the main stage from backstage, Adam Collins was more nervous than he had ever been in his life. A guitar was slung over his shoulder and he trying to resist the urge to pace back and forth.

"Calm down." A hand touched his arm lightly. Adam looked to his girlfriend, trying to smile but his nerves made the smile come out awkwardly. Zoe Montgomery was, to be frank, a sexy woman and she played up to her strengths. Her blonde hair had taken almost thirty minutes of perfect brushing to get it the way it was and she wore deliberately teasing clothes - a t-shirt with a V-neck just low enough to taunt an inquisitive eye and jeans which hung on her hips, as if ready to fall with the slightest movement.

When people saw her, they would not expect her to be dating a young man like Adam. Where she was hot, he was out of shape but slightly chubby. His black hair stuck to his forehead when he was sweating and he was shorter than the average English male, standing at 5' 2". A lot of people assumed he was a 'placeholder'. Somebody to impress Zoe's parents while she fucked around. Adam claimed that wasn't true, that she was attracted to his personality and his musical talent. Although if he was honest, he didn't know how Zoe felt. He loved her enough not to presume what she thought and could never answer for her.

"It's hard to be calm." Adam breathed out, his hands fiddling with a loose strand on his t-shirt. "There's nearly 200,000 people out there… granted, not everyone who is at the Festival is watching at the moment… but that is still more people than I ever imagined to perform to. I've been to hundreds of gigs but…"

"This is necessary if you want to be on top, Adam." Zoe moved her hand on his arm, stroking him to ease his nerves. "You can't just hang around and perform in small clubs with barely 100 people. You got to take this step."

"I know… it's just one hell of a step is all."

"Just remember that I'm watching you, all right? I know you won't screw this up… you love music, Adam, just channel that, okay?"

"Mmm hmm. I know… I know. I think it's the build-up that is making me nervous. I think I'll be okay once I actually get out there… but I gotta say, a lot of these people are bands… all I got is my guitar and my voice-"

"And that's what makes people listen to you and your lyrics. You make your songs mean something." Zoe slipped her hand in his, squeezing tightly. "They're special. Besides, you have some kind of secret song you won't tell me about."

Adam smiled, looking up at the girders high above. "I gotta say, that's making me more nervous. This'll be the first time I perform this song in front of an audience. It's too bad rookies like me can only perform one song - otherwise I'd get comfortable with songs I know work. This could go horribly."

"It won't. If you need to, close your eyes. Make sure you concentrate on your music alone, alright?"

"Yeah… I need to make sure I do well. This is my chance… to become a pro… to become like Elijah Freemon or Charlie Walker… to headline events." Adam wiped his forehead. "This is my dream… I just gotta make this a reality…"

Zoe put her hands on Adam's cheeks, pulling his face close to hers. She leant forward, pecking his lips and stared into his eyes. "It's going to be a reality, I promise you. With this many people watching, someone is going to see that talent you have. The For the People festival is common grounds for record labels looking for new talent."

"It's a shame I don't look like a star…" Adam shook his head slightly. He didn't concentrate on his appearance but he knew that there were many others performing that day and the day after who looked much more like your typical star.

"That's a blessing in disguise. They'll be focusing on your voice, not your looks."

"Adam Collins?" A man with a clipboard called out. Adam took a deep breath and kissed Zoe one last time.

"You get 'em, tiger, alright?"

"…will do." Adam swung the guitar around his front and walked to the curtains. He stopped for a second before pushing the curtains open.

A torrent of sound hit him all at once. The cheers were like an earthquake and he could swear he could feel the very stage beneath him moving - or that may have just been his nerves. They weren't cheering directly for him, they were cheering in general for more music. People who performed on the Pyramid Stage weren't known to disappoint and Adam didn't want to be the first to completely screw up and lose the crowd's respect. The crowd itself was a sea of multi-coloured blobs, bobbing up and down. He put on his best smile and approached the microphone that was set out for him in the middle of the stage.

"H-Hello." He called out. The crowd went quiet, certainly not silent, but only an expectant rumble. They were probably interested in this chubby, small young man coming out in front of them with only a guitar. "My name is Adam Collins, but you probably don't care for names. You want to hear music and that's what I'm here for. It's been two years since I met my girlfriend… and I know it's sappy but I wanna dedicate this song to her. This one's for you, Zoe." Adam took a deep breath and started strumming on his guitar, building up the music note by note. He played well and the crowd knew it. Adam leaned closer to the microphone, and started to sing.

* * *

He let the last note linger out of his throat, deep and resonating into the crowd. A final strum of his guitar, and Adam pulled back, wiping his forehead. It was as he thought. As soon as he started singing, the nerves were wiped away. He was in his world, playing his music. As the last guitar note burned out, the crowd erupted into cheers. He stood there, soaking in the cheers, feeling the happiest he had ever felt in his life. It was hard to move backwards, to head back through the curtain, to let that crowd go. But he got a taste of the high life. He wanted to perform in front of a crowd like that again, wanted to let them hear his music.

"That was brilliant!" Zoe came from out of nowhere, jumping on him with a hug. Adam stumbled backwards but managed to keep on his feet, unable to hide the giant grin on his face. Zoe kissed him hard on the lips, fingers scraping into his back. Adam had to pull away to break the passionate kiss and Zoe hopped back down, crossing her arms. "I'm impressed, Adam Collins. I've never heard you sing like that, even on your best days. We are going to have to celebrate."

"Good job, kid." Adam turned to see Eddy Cool extending his hand. Adam shook it.

"Thanks… that was… amazing."

"First time in front of a crowd that big, huh. I know what that feels like. It makes an impression, doesn't it?"

"Definitely… I just want to perform for a crowd like that again. I need to."

"Hahah. Well, after that performance, I'm sure you're gonna be contacted soon. You got a future ahead of you, Adam, I'm sure of it." Eddy ran a hand through his hair. "Good job." He left through the curtain, to introduce the next act.

"You hear that, Adam? You got a future ahead of you." Zoe grabbed his hand, pulling him along. She was grinning almost as widely as Adam. "And dedicating that song to me? I'm not sure I've ever loved you more than this moment."

"As you said before, I make my lyrics mean something. And I think the meaning was quite clear with that one. I love you too, Zoe. I sure as hell love you too."

**A/N:- Thanks to Grojbandian180 for the review! Bridge and Lily both belong to Yajuu_Kikuishi and Adam and Zoe belong to the Guest. Good news! I now know who the final THREE survivors are gonna be and when every death (and the order of deaths) is going to happen! I'm going to do my best to get through the last of the introductions in order to get things rolling. Probably every two days or if I'm feeling rather creative, every day. **

**SHOUT-OUT! All right, guys, I just want to give a shout-out to A. Zarko, who is starting to write a Final Destination fanfiction called Final Destination: A Trip of a Lifetime. Check him out, I honestly think he's got potential and Final Destination deserves more good fanfictions. **

'**Till neeeeeext time! **


	7. Welcome to the Black Parade

_August 30__th__, Saturday_

_14:50_

As her arm moved swiftly back and forth and her fingers pressed on the strings rapidly, Emma Fischer was back home in Zwiesel, Germany. It was winter, the cold harsh and unforgiving, but her home warm with the great roaring fire in the living room. She sat by the fireplace on a stool, cello in hand, playing to herself with no ears but her own to take in her music. Her parents didn't care for her choice in music but for Emma the choice was clear - classical was to be her journey. The thoughts of playing by herself in her home fluttered through her head as she sat alone on the 'Field of Avalon', one of many stages at the For the People Festival.

This was the first time since then that she had played by herself, not in another orchestra, but by herself with her own music and her own tune. It was something that crept into her very soul. The crowd wasn't in front her, the stage wasn't under her feet, she was by herself by her fire, simply playing as best as her talent allowed.

As she finished her final notes, she opened her eyes and once more she looked into the crowd, drawn back to reality. The crowd wasn't very big, but there were enough people present for the cheers to be loud. Emma smiled. It wasn't just rock and pop that was popular at the For the People Festival. No, all music was welcome and all music had their place. It was hard nowadays to find places to perform classical live other than operas or orchestral showings.

Standing up, her cello propped against her leg, Emma bent at the waist for a bow. She was neither one for curtsy's nor words. With that bow, she moved off the stage, ready for other classical musicians to play after her. A stage-hand quickly rushed on the stage and picked up the cello before disappearing back behind the curtain. Backstage, Emma walked silently past the activity in the back. She didn't need or want congratulations. She was satisfied with her performance - and that was all that mattered. The crowd enjoyed it and she enjoyed it. She grabbed her cello - now placed back in its case - from the stagehand and carried it off out all the way to her camping van ten minutes away.

Reaching her sky blue van, Emma placed the cello down and looked up to the sky. The rain was starting to fall in patters again. It was raining before her performance as well. It was if the sky itself listened to her music, stopping all activity. Ducking into the van she quickly changed out of the black dress she had worn just for the performance and back into her usual combination of white-washed jeans and a cream sweater. Tucking the dress back into the small closet, she perched herself on the edge of the long seat that extended its way across the back of the van and laced her fingers together.

Today was a good day. She had been able to perform four complete songs. She had hoped for more time, but there were a surprising amount of classical performers. At least four songs was better than just one, like many of the others had to settle with. But now she was done. She had spent a lot of money coming here and just like that, she would be leaving. She had booked a plane for Monday, back to her home in Zwiesel.

"No…" Emma frowned to herself, looking out of her window. She was in a caravan and camping van only zone but that didn't mean it wasn't bustling with activity. It was lunch time for many people - families, groups of friends, or just couples - and they were sitting around their vans, laughing, talking, eating, being happy. Emma liked it here. It was… free. Maybe she'd put off the flight back home. She could just travel around England for a while, maybe head up to Scotland or northwest to Wales. She had enough money for fuel and food, it could be fun.

Fun… Emma shook her head. That was a word that didn't often come to her mind. She didn't have friends to have fun with. She didn't go to clubs or hang out at bars. She kept to herself, with only her music as her friend. Her 'fun' was playing her cello. Perhaps it would be good to look for fun outside of her music. Traveling might just be what she needed.

A knock on the door caused Emma to jump slightly. She wasn't expecting anyone and no-one simply just visited her. Maybe it was some kind of fan who wanted her autograph - although the For the People festival was about music, not the musicians. Wondering who could be at her door, Emma stood up and opened the door, revealing the blonde Eddy Cool. His sequined jacket slung over his shoulder revealing a simple white shirt. He was smiling as he always did on stage. He put out his hand to shake.

"Miss Fischer."

"Mr… Cool." Emma blinked, surprised.

"May I come in?"

Emma quickly glanced behind her. "I think it would be better to talk… outside. It would be… cramped in here." She talked slowly and deliberately, making sure her thick German accent didn't disguise what she was trying to say. Her English was not the best by any means. She had never been to England itself but had been to America only four times.

"That's fine with me." Eddy placed his jacket on the grass and sat down, one leg stretched out in front of him, ignoring the rain completely. In many ways, Eddy was just like the fans that visited the Festival. He wasn't afraid to mingle and get to know random strangers. Emma hesitantly sat on the edge of the car, through the open door.

"What can I do for you?"

"I was watching your performance out on the Avalon. Great work, by the way, gripping stuff. In fact, it's your music I want to talk about."

"I do not want any kind of offer to sign up… for anything, Mr. Cool." Emma said, crossing her arms.

"No, no, no, I'm not asking that, don't worry." Eddy rubbed the back of his head. "This is… something more of a personal nature."

"Oh?"

"You see…" Eddy took a breath before beaming up at Emma. "On Tuesday, I'm going to propose to my girlfriend. I'm going to be taking her to an expensive restaurant. I want to make it special. And as it so happens, she is a big fan of classical - in fact, she has told me about you on a number of occasions. One of the biggest - if not _the _biggest - classical act in Germany. I would love for you to be able to perform something in the background at the restaurant. Something to surprise her with before the big question."

Emma was taken aback. Perform for a proposal? She had to admit, it did sound romantic.

"Money is not a problem. I'll pay what needs to be paid. I just want to make the day as special and memorable as I possibly can." Eddy was scanning Emma's face, trying to discern what her answer would be. "If you can't, I'll understand, of course you must be busy-"

"Okay." Emma interrupted, smiling. "That sounds interesting. I think I would like to please your girlfriend like that."

Eddy's eyes widened with happiness. "That's brilliant! Thank you, it means a lot to me. So, would kind of money are we looking at?"

"None."

"None?"

"None." Emma repeated firmly. "I do not need money. Happiness… does not need to cost a thing. If you tell me the when and where, I will be happy to… perform."

"I… I can't just not repay you…"

"Yes you can."

"No, that just doesn't sit well with me. You won't accept money?"

"No."

Eddy pursed his lips. "Well… what about a free ticket for the hotel stay and studio tour tomorrow and Monday?"

"Is that not part of that contest? Is there not a random draw?"

"You wouldn't be part of the group that gets chosen. It was just be a… payment, for helping me with this. What do you say? You'll get to meet three of the biggest musical talents in England as well as staying at a top quality hotel. I expect you don't go to really fancy hotels much, considering money doesn't seem to be much of a factor in your career."

Emma thought for a second. Just like that, she was given a chance to have some fun outside of her cello. Her answer seemed obvious to her. "Yes… I think I would like that. I would like that very much."

* * *

_August 31__st__, Sunday_

_03:32_

Adam Treeland sat at the base of a lone tree, the light of his phone illuminating his face, reflecting off his glasses. His teeth were gritted and his fist was clenching as his watched the video on his phone. A video that had been filmed three weeks before.

It was footage from a video camera, showing the back of Adam himself. He was outside of a bar, looking at his phone much like how he was watching the footage now. The man with the video camera filmed two other men on either side of him. Both of them wore black clothes, with a black hoody disguising their faces. One put their thumb up before pointing at Adam's back. The other one cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Hey, fairy!"

Adam turned just in time to be hit hard in the face. The force sent him sprawling to the floor, one of the lenses of his glasses breaking. Before he even had time to catch his breath, the man that hit him drove his foot hard into Adam's chest, knocking him down onto the alley floor. He stomped hard a couple of times. Watching the footage, Adam couldn't help but feel his ribs that were broken in the attack. The other man crouched over him.

"We don't like your kind around here, fairy. You're screwing up our children and ruining the way things are." The man kicked Adam in the groin, hard. Then both men started kicking. Adam watched himself curl into a ball, trying to avoid the worst of the kicks but they still caught him in the face and the neck and the ribs. It went on for a full five minutes before there was a shout from the other end of the alley.

"Shit!" The man with the video camera said, calling out to his friends. "Let's get the fuck outta here!" With that, the video stopped.

Adam stared at the screen, his fist squeezing hard. He had been sent the video the moment he got out of the hospital, with a text reading:- "Get the fuck out of town before we do worse, fairy."

The injuries had been bad. Bruises all over his body, a couple of broken fingers, three broken ribs, a good amount of cuts with one being so bad that it had to be stitched up. His arm had gotten a fracture and he was now missing four teeth.

Adam had to try as hard as he could not to cry. He had been watching the video over and over again ever since he got it. He had come to the festival to try and take his mind off them but it just couldn't work. No matter who he listened to it just didn't work. He felt more and more miserable the more the days passed. He couldn't go back home, he couldn't risk any more attacks. That was the one good thing at the festival. He was safe. If only it went on forever then he wouldn't have to go back, wouldn't have to suffer the discrimination of being gay.

He wasn't one of those people who claimed that he didn't have a choice. He did choose. He found comfort more in the arms of men than in the arms of women. He felt happy and excited around men while women made him simply uncomfortable. This was his life, he wanted to live it. But these homophobic men just refused to let him be. They wanted to ruin his life… they wanted to end it. He had gone to the police but they didn't help. No-one helped. Only Nathan helped. But Nathan wasn't here anymore.

"Damn…" Adam squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't prevent these goddamn emotions. Sometimes he wanted to just get rid of them. Sometimes he wanted to just die… but suicide, suicide just wasn't the answer. Nathan wouldn't allow it.

"Hey, you alright?"

At the voice Adam jumped, scrambling to his feet. He looked at the female standing in front of him, clad completely in black. She only thing that wasn't black was her extremely pale skin, standing out like a ghost in the night. She had thick eyeliner and even had black piercings, one on each ear and a left eyebrow piercing.

"I'm fine!" Adam said defensively, hoping she couldn't see his cheeks were wet. What the hell was someone doing here? It was a field just off the festival grounds and it was three in the morning.

"No… you're not." The woman shook her head. "That video… was that you… on the receiving end?"

"You watched?" Adam scratched at his arm. "Why did you watch?"

"I'm sorry… I just caught it. But… was that you?"

"…yes…"

The woman stared at him for a good ten seconds, enough to make him feel more uncomfortable than he was already feeling. "Are you gay?" She finally asked.

"Yes." Adam responded instantly. He wasn't afraid to say it. He wasn't defensive about it, nor angry at the question. It was just somebody asking him if his name was Adam.

"I thought so." The woman sighed. There was a faint Australian accent in her speech. "Was it bad?"

"Who are you?" Adam asked, hating this conversation. He wasn't rude enough to simply walk away though.

"Oh… sorry… my name is Jacey Rae Callibaster." Jacey's face seemed to always be in a frown, her eyes seemingly constantly downcast.

"Can you… please go? I don't really want to talk to anyone at the moment…"

"You're not like other gay men I've met." Jacey said quietly. This took Adam by surprise.

"What do you mean by that?"

"A lot of gay men dress up in bright clothes and have a bubbly personality. Not you… you're just… normal."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. No, it's actually refreshing. Sometimes I feel those type of gay people are trying too hard, somehow. You just seem… real…"

"Hah… real? Real enough to get beaten the crap out of." Adam shook his head. "Sorry… please, just… I don't want to talk."

"I told you my name. What's yours?"

"…Adam. Adam Treeland."

"Tree-Land?"

"No…" Adam sighed. "It's pronounced Tril-Lan."

"Oh. Treeland." She let the pronunciation roll off her tongue. "Why are you up so early in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep. What about you?"

"I don't sleep at night." Jacey said matter of factly as if it were something that wasn't strange at all.

"Huh." Adam didn't question this peculiarity. "So… why did you come over here?"

"I saw that video… I didn't mean to watch but… well, it just happened… and I wanted to talk to you. You seemed sad."

"Angry. Sad. Depressed. It's all the same thing."

"I'm not the most social person in the world… in fact, I have no friends that I can meet face-to-face. But something about you made me want to comfort. Not all is bad in the world, Adam Treeland."

"Most of it though. A world where people can't accept being homosexual is a bad world. You don't see people beating the crap out of people with a different taste in music. Or a different taste in food. But when it comes to a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman… you don't want to listen to me talk."

"Talking _does _have its merits." Jacey said, sitting next to the tree where Adam had been sitting. "Both of us aren't sleeping… why not talk? I can listen well. It seems you need someone to let loose on."

Adam stared at this peculiar girl who seemed to appear out of nowhere. He sighed and sat down next to her. Something about her was… he couldn't place it. He just knew that she didn't care where his sexual orientation lay.

"Gum?" Jacey offered a piece from a black packet. She slipped a piece into her own mouth.

Adam shrugged. "Sure." He took a piece himself. "So… what do you want to talk about?"

"Whatever _you _want to talk about. As I said… I can listen. So I'll listen to whatever it is you need to air."

Adam nodded. "Okay… why not?"

* * *

**A/N:- Thanks to Yajuu-Kikuishi for the review! Okay! Emma belongs to LocalTalent53, Adam belongs to Bookreader2010, and Jacey Rae belongs to A Mosaic Masterpiece! **

**One more chapter guys! Then the exciting stuff happens! I'll introduce the last two characters next chapter, and then we'll get this ball rolling! Thanks for hanging in there! **

'**Till next time! **


	8. Ready, Set, Don't Go

_August 31__st__, Sunday_

_11:00_

Charlie Walker put his ear against the door, his mouth turning in an ever increasing frown. He had come to talk to his daughter who had her own dressing room due to being his child, but now he had heard the one thing he didn't want to hear. A man's voice.

"C'mon Bonny, your dad isn't gonna find out about this… or us, I mean, he doesn't pay attention to you, does he?"

"No… no, he doesn't… you're right, this is gonna be fine. I mean, what we have is perfect, I don't need that guy's permission for this. So what do I have to do?"

"You snort it up with that straw. You'll get a kick like you've never had before."

At this, Charlie's 6' 5" broad farming figure stiffened. He drew away from the door and took a deep breath. Then he slammed his shoulder hard into the wood. It buckled with little resistance. Charlie stood in the doorway, staring at his daughter and that boy, Zack. Both stared at Charlie in shock, white powder lying in straight lines on the table in front of them. Charlie had to try his hardest not to shout.

"What… in the goddamn hell… are you doin', Bonny?" He growled, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"D-Dad!" Bonny suddenly jumped to her feet, quickly swiping her hand across the table, sending the powder everywhere. But it was far too late. "I-"

"Is that cocaine?" Charlie asked quietly.

"I-yes, I mean, no- I-"

"You." Charlie pointed at Zack, who was stock-still. "Out."

Zack glanced at Bonny before standing defiantly before the much bigger man. "No. You can't tell her what to do. She's eighteen. She's old enough to think for herself. She's-"

"I. Said. Out." Charlie glowered down at Zack with enough force to make him scamper out of the room with his tail between his legs. Charlie looked back to Bonny, who was swiping her purple-dyed hair out of her eyes. She was nothing like her father. While Charlie embraced his Texas roots, complete with a thick moustache and cowboy hat, Bonny had been taken over by this new age music. She wore fishnet underneath skimpy skirts and tight tops. With purple eyeliner and lipstick it didn't take any stretch of imagination to think her a prostitute. "Bonny-"

"He's right you know! You don't control what I do!"

"I am your father, and cocaine is illegal. Do you want to be sent to prison?"

"I'd just get bailed out by you if I do, but I won't, 'cause I won't get caught!"

"_I _just caught you!"

"You were eavesdropping, weren't you? Fuck you, dad, Zack's a great guy and this stuff gives me excitement in my otherwise boring paparazzi invaded life!"

"That stuff will kill you! What else are you doin' when I'm not lookin'? I know you smoke, but what else do you do, huh? Take meth or speed or-"

"I don't have to tell you what I do when I'm on my own!" Bonny shouted. "You just can't accept that I'm not the daughter you wanted!"

"That is not true. I let you do what you want, but when you do things that are illegal, then that is where I draw the line." Charlie couldn't help but raise his voice. "And now you're datin' _him_? What the hell are you thinkin'!?"

"I'm thinking, dad, that Zack is exciting and awesome to be around. He doesn't just think of me as Charlie Walker's daughter, you know, he thinks of me as Bonny, someone to spend his future with! Oh, and by the way, I'm gonna be performing with him on stage tonight!" Bonny tried to exit the room but Charlie put his arm out, slamming his hand on the doorframe.

"You… what? You don't play any instruments."

"Shows what you know! I can play guitar, but I'm gonna be singing anyway!"

"Singin'?" Charlie stared at Bonny. "You can't sing."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence! I wasn't asking you anyway, and Zack thinks I can sing."

"Well, what are you singin' then?"

"Death metal!"

Charlie shook his head. "That is not music, Bonny, that's a bunch of screamin' nonsense!"

"I don't gotta play country, dad, that's your thing, not mine. You may not _like _death metal, but it's getting big. You have no right to say it's not music."

"You will not be performin' that deafenin' sound and you certainly will not be performin' with that boy."

"Fuck you, dad! You can't stop me! You're not the boss of me! You're just a fuckin' dictator!"

A flash of red burst through Charlie's mind. He raised his hand and was about to bring it down before he stopped himself. Breathing hard, he cleared his mind.

"Oh, yeah, dad, fuckin' hit me! Go on!" Bonny challenged, tears in her eyes. "I'm not mother! You hit me, I will fuckin' fight back and I will go to the police! Or maybe you'll just beat me to death, why not, you didn't have a problem doing that to mot-"

"That is not me!" Charlie roared, unable to hold in his voice any longer. He took a deep breath and looked into Bonny's frightened eyes. "Not any more…" He whispered before speaking up. "Fine… fine… do what you want… just… don't do anythin' illegal, please? Just… just be careful…"

Bonny didn't reply, just ran out of the room. After a few minutes, Charlie swung around and smashed his hand into the open door, sending his fist right through the plywood.

"Charlie?"

Charlie looked through the doorway to spot Elijah Freemon. Elijah was a good friend of his, someone he confided in. While he didn't like most forms of rap, Elijah had a message and wanted to support children and people in need everywhere. Charlie pulled his hand from the door and sat down on a chair by the wall, his head in his hands.

"You okay, man? I heard shouting?"

"Just… just arguin' with Bonny… were we loud?"

"Any louder and I'd expect you'd drown out the music on stage." Elijah said lightly, coming over to Charlie's side. "You need anything or do you want me to leave you be?"

"No… no, stay…" Charlie looked up at Elijah, his eyes wet. "I almost hit her… I had this… urge… I _wanted _to hit her… I didn't but…"

Elijah put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Hey… you didn't hit her though, that's the important thing, right?"

"I don't know how I can hold back, though… she keeps doin' these… stupid things… it's like she doesn't care about her life. I just want her to listen…"

"Then make her listen to your words, not your fists." Elijah said firmly.

Elijah had met Charlie at a meeting for parents who hit their spouses or children. Much like meetings for smoking or drinking, it was a place to seek help and get sponsors. A lot of people wanted to control their anger, and Charlie was one of them. Elijah was there as a special guest, being the man who had been beaten as a child. He had seen a fellow musician in Charlie and decided to sponsor him there and then, despite the fact he wasn't an official sponsor. Elijah saw his father in Charlie, and wanted to make sure he didn't end up like him.

Charlie nodded before standing up. "I need to get backstage… I'm gonna be performin' soon."

"Are you okay to do that?"

"I can't just disappoint my fans, Elijah, you know that. I'll be fine… I just… maybe I'll go to counselling with her. I want to fix this relationship."

"That'll be good. Keep me up to date, okay? But remember, if you ever feel that anger and you just _have _to hit something, hit something like that door, okay? Don't let yourself do anything else you'd regret."

"I know. Thanks, Elijah." Charlie clapped Elijah on the back before leaving. On his way through the corridor, his passed Eddy, who was chatting away on his phone. "Oh… I might have accidently broke a door." Charlie said on his way past. Eddy stopped and looked to the door in question, seeing door ripped open. He looked up at Elijah, who shrugged with a smile. Eddy just shook his head in disbelief.

"Is every one of my headline acts going to break my doors?"

"I'm not planning to." Elijah responded with a smile.

* * *

_15:03_

Raiden Darkoff was one in a crowd of 200,000, a great sea of anticipation and excitement. He looked like a lot of young men looked at the Festival with his jeans and hoody, as well as boots to stomp through the mud. While slightly plump, he was taller than most and as such wasn't under threat of losing sight of the stage. Not that you had to watch the stage to enjoy yourself. The music was the important part and as long as you could hear it - it was money well spent.

The electricity running through the crowd was due to one man. It was time for the first performance in 12 years from Bridge. He was perhaps the reason for the record-breaking crowd at the For The People festival, the reason so many people had squeezed together in and around the Pyramid Stage grounds.

A gong struck.

In that instant, everything went silent. No one in the massive crowd made a single noise. Instead all heads were directed towards the stage. It was time. Bridge's first solo performance. He had only performed with other bands 12 years ago, but he was extremely talented even on the side-lines. Being a solo act, these 200,000 festival goers were in for a treat.

Another gong reverberated out over the grounds. At the same time, smoke whirled from either side of the stage, forming in the middle, swirling around each other as if with a mind of their own. Then something moved at the very center of the stage. Something moved up. It didn't take long to realize it was a pure black coffin rising from the smoke with chains hanging off it. Every five seconds, the gong struck, loud and pure. The crowd was enraptured by these dark theatrics, paying closer attention to Bridge than any other performer could even hope for.

Then the coffin lid fell forward and slammed on the stage at the same time as another gong. Then Bridge stepped out, a microphone in hand. His slender figure was shadowed on the dark stage, his red contact lenses flashing like a demon in the darkness. At the first sighting of him, the crowd roared with cheers; wild, feral noise. Bridge raised the microphone to his lips and the crowd once more fell silent.

"Resurrection."

That one word was whispered, but echoed eerily out over the crowd. Four spotlights suddenly beamed down, bright on four different instruments. A drum set, a bass guitar, a grand piano, and a normal guitar. Everything other than the grand piano seemed stretched out, much like Bridge himself was. Perhaps it was to accommodate his peculiarly long arms. Bridge sat down on the drum set first and pulled two drumsticks from behind him that were tucked into his trousers.

In an instant, his arms were moving, flashing in a blur as he started playing. The rapid-fire beats were hit with precision, with the cymbals interspersed throughout. After exactly one minute, Bridge hit some kind of button below the drums with his foot. His hands stopped moving but the drums continued playing. He stood up and walked over to the grand piano and sat down once more. Once again he started in a flash, his long fingers snaking their ways over the keys, combining the clear notes of the grand piano over the heavy blast of the drum. It worked wonders. Another minute and he pressed another button, standing up again.

He repeated the process with the bass guitar before picking up the normal guitar. He placed the microphone on a stand and started playing the guitar with expert precision. There was a reason he was called a genius. Bridge leant forward, his body moving with his rhythm, and started singing.

His voice was one of a kind. It was deep, but smooth and pure. Every note was hit perfectly without even a waver, but never once did it sound robotic. It was natural, simply natural. His singing started relatively slow, working between the notes of the drums and piano. Then he increased tempo, weaving his way along with the instruments.

After six minutes of some of the best music the crowd had heard in the festival, the song ended. Bridge stood on stage, a wicked smile on his face. The crowd erupted, a volcano of hoarse cheers and waving arms. Bridge allowed the crowd to use their voices before he leaned close to the microphone again.

"Luxuria."

This pattern repeated again and again. After every song, he whispered the title of the next song in that eerie but commanding voice. Gula, Avaritia, Socordia, Ira, Invidia and finally Superbia. While Elijah Freemon and Charlie Walker got to perform four songs, Bridge was allowed a total of eight. It had been twelve years, it was a special occasion and the fans certainly wouldn't complain.

As the last notes of Superbia drifted away, the crowd gave its loudest ovation yet. Bridge stood on stage for around five minutes, taking in the cheers with that smile on his face. Then he went back through the curtain, leaving the stage empty. After another few minutes, Eddy Cool jogged out on stage, microphone in hand.

"Okay, everybody, that was one heck of a performance, but now it's time to announce the contest winners. If you get picked, remember that Bridge will perform a single song in the studio. As will Charlie Walker and Elijah Freemon. The bus will be leaving in one hour, so if your name is called out, you'll find the bus behind the Pyramid Stage. Show your pass and your identification when asked. Here are the nine that were selected."

Eddy's words were half a blur to Raiden. Bridge's performance had been one of a kind. He had never heard someone perform like that, with so much meaning behind every single note and word. However, he did pay attention to Eddy at the word 'contest'. He had signed up, in hope of meeting Bridge himself. The others were just a bonus.

Eddy cleared his throat and looked at a piece of paper. "Adam Treeland. Corey Walker. Ruby Ascot. Raiden Darkoff. Jace Ryan. Adam Collins. Jacey Rae Callibaster. Lily Talbot… and Sabrina Holland!"

_I got it! _Raiden couldn't mask the smile that spread across his face, despite the fact he never usually smiled like this. He figured it would be like lotto tickets. You never expect to win, just go with the thrill of being chosen. But he actually did win. He'd get to meet Bridge, the man who had made his life brighter. No other musician had the kind of effect on Raiden than Bridge. It was Bridge's music that got him through the hard times with Karen, and stopped him from doing something stupid when it was all over. Now he'd get to actually come face to face with his hero.

* * *

**A/N:- Thanks to Bookreader2010 & Grojbandian180 for the reviews! Charlie Walker belongs to the aforementioned Guest, and Raiden Darkoff belongs to Darksider82. I'm aware that Raiden didn't get much screen time, but that was very much deliberate. We'll be seeing a whole lot of him over the coming weeks. **

**The introductions are done! Woo! Now, next chapter is the vision… and I **_**know **_**you guys are looking forward to it, I certainly am. We'll get our list, and we're gonna get to the blood and gore and the thick plot I have planned for Final Destination Encore. Keep a holdin' your hats, it's gonna get wild!**

'**Till then! **


	9. The Name of the Game

**I don't do A/N's up top anymore, but this is a special case. Recently, my work has been stolen and reused by a user by the name of 4fireking. Not just my work, but many other people's as well. He's plagiarised again and again. I just wanted to warn people out there that he's not to be trusted. **

_17:39_

Joseph Howarth had been a bus driver all his life. He often liked to think of himself as the most experienced bus driver in England. When he was twenty, he got a job as a prison bus driver. This was his career for a good fifteen years, before a shiv to the shoulder made him hang up his boots on that particular career path. He moved on to a school bus for another ten years, making the same old routes days on end, but it was enjoyable. Unfortunately, an ill-advised relationship with a female student cost him that job. While she was technically overage, the school still thought it looked bad and fired him. After that he flitted around as a casual bus driver before moving on to private buses for musicians, celebrities and the like. He was paid more than his other jobs just for doing the thing he had been doing all his life.

Joe was now sitting in one such private bus, his eyes peering out from his glasses to the door, waiting for the first arrivals. This bus was made especially for the annual contest of the For The People festival. The seats all looked at each other, so contest winners and headline acts could talk with each other. There was a mini-fridge on the right side between two seats. On the opposite side were ten sets of three albums, prepared to be autographed by the headline acts for this year's contest winners.

Seeing Eddy Cool approach, Joe opened the automatic doors for the host. With that flashy smile, Eddy leaned outside the bus. "Hey Joe."

"Hey there Eddy." Joe ran a hand down his clean-shaven face. "You comin' in?"

"I'm making sure the winners are actually the winners out here. However Elijah, Charlie and Bridge are on their way."

"I gotta say Eddy, I'm not sure I trust that Bridge will be comin'. He doesn't exactly seem a sociable guy."

Eddy shook his head. "I've been having this conversation a lot Joe. Bridge keeps his promise, so just trust in him. Speaking of which…" Eddy pointed a finger. Joe followed it to see Charlie Walker and Elijah Freemon walking side by side, talking. About ten steps behind them loomed Bridge, dressed in the exact same clothes he wore for his performance. Charlie was first on the bus, greeting Joe with a tip of his hat. Elijah slapped Joe on the shoulder as he passed.

"You good, J?"

"Always good, brother." Joe responded with a smile. He felt a certain kinship with Elijah. The man had it tough, being in prison at a young age. Joe had seen many prisoners claim to want to be good again, but often it was hard to believe. Elijah was proof that people could turn their lives around from jail. It was a bonus to see a fellow black man earn points for their community.

Bridge slid into the bus, having to duck low to avoid slamming his head on the frame. He couldn't even stand straight in the main bulk of the bus, his head and shoulders ducked down. Bridge strolled to the back of the bus without a word, sitting on the back seat with his legs stretched out before him. Joe looked to Eddy about Bridge's cold demeanour, but Eddy just shrugged.

"He's here, isn't he?" He laughed. "Right, the winners ought to be here soon."

The first to arrive was a very neat blonde girl. Emma, according to the nametag Eddy gave her. The nametag was to avoid any embarrassing situations of forgetting names. Interesting, Eddy didn't check the ticket or the identification for her, simply let her on the bus. She must have met with him before to not get checked. She walked onto the bus, greeting Joe with only a curt nod of the head. At least she acknowledged. A lot of the time, he was simply a bus driver, not anyone important enough to say hello to.

Next was a girl who practically skipped up to Eddy with a nefarious smile.

"Got your ticket and identification?" Eddy asked and took the ticket offered to him. "Alright then, Lily." He gave her the nametag before pausing. Lily cocked her head to the side.

"Something on my face?"

"You… You're that girl from before, in Bridge's room. What the hell are you doing here?" Eddy tried to keep his voice down but Joe could see in his mirror that Bridge had noticed the girl and his face turned even sterner than before. "I'm not going to let you on this bus, you know. I'll call security to get you - hey!" Lily sidestepped Eddy, completely ignoring him, and stepped up onto the bus. She tried to continue on but Joe grabbed her arm lightly, but firmly. He had dealt with her kind before.

"You ought to leave, miss." Joe said.

"Leave? But I won that contest. I spent a bunch for that ticket." Lily tried tugging her arm out of Joe's grip but was unable to. She glanced up to Bridge, who was staring at her with narrowed eyes. Elijah and Charlie were looking at the situation, bemused. She then looked to Eddy, who seemed to be on the phone to security. Lily sighed. "Oh dear… I guess I was caught. Well then, I'll make my way back to Japan and see if I can find some music by Ryoushi." Lily glanced back at Bridge, his hands squeezed into fists under his pockets. "Oh wait! I don't need to go to Japan, I can just-"

"It's fine, Eddy." Bridge called out, blinking slowly. "Don't bother."

Eddy stepped into the bus and looked to Bridge. "You sure?"

"It's fine. As long as she doesn't… do anything else, it's fine." Bridge seemed reluctant to say as much.

"Alright then." Eddy sighed. "Disregard that John." Flipping his phone shut he turned to Joe. "Let her go."

"Thank you." Lily pulled her hand back to her side and promptly skipped to the back of the bus, plopping herself down right next to Bridge. He stiffened again but his face hardly changed. Eddy sighed and shook his head, stepping outside the bus to greet two more winners.

Sabrina and Ruby, Joe noted. Ruby seemed extremely excited to be here, a normal reaction, while Sabrina seemed quite quiet. Maybe it had something to do with her nose, which seemed to be bruised heavily.

"Thanks!" Ruby grinned, practically pulling Sabrina onto the bus. Ruby had to contain herself coming face to face with three of the biggest faces of music.

"Evenin'." Charlie greeted, extended a hand to shake with Ruby. Ruby grabbed it eagerly.

"Hi! I'm a big fan of your music, well, all of your music, that's why I signed up for this contest, obviously, since there'd be no point in being here otherwise. I mean, you guys are simply awesome, inspirational, and I'm starting to embarrass myself so I'll just sit and be quiet." Ruby blushed and sat down with the quiet Sabrina at her side.

Next was a teenager called Corey, who strode onto the bus, trying to contain his excitement. Raiden came next. An unusual name, Joe noted. Both were about the same age, but likely had completely different personalities. Another pair arrived, this one male and female. The boy named Adam and the girl named Jacey. They were an odd pair, but they seemed comfortable around each other.

Finally, arriving almost a minute after everyone else, was Jace. He had his hands in his pocket, looking thoroughly miserable. Upon reaching the bus, he pulled his hands from his pockets and forced a smile. It was good acting, but Joe caught it. It didn't even seem like he wanted to be here. After he was checked and sat down on the bus, Eddy jumped on and Joe closed the doors behind him.

"Alright everyone! So, here's the plan as it stands. We are going to be taking a drive to London. On the way there, you'll have your chance to talk to Charlie, Elijah and Bridge. When we reach London, we'll arrive at a hotel, which as you know, is all prepaid. You'll be staying at the hotel for the night, and in the morning Joe here will arrive to take us to the studios, where Charlie, Elijah and Bridge will each record a single song to be given to each of you. These will be autographed." Eddy pointed to the album CD's. "You'll also receive their newest album, also autographed. Now, let's get comfortable."

* * *

Carol and Timothy sat in the police car together, Timothy at the wheel. They were parked, looking out onto the road, watching the rain patter down on the fields ahead of them. Behind them were the lights of the festival, the sound of music still playing despite the fact that the Pyramid itself had closed down.

"I can't wait to be back in London." Timothy complained for what seemed like the hundredth time. "At least we get the occasional interesting thing happening. Here it's just drunks. When you said patrol I thought you meant actually driving around."

Carol shrugged. "I thought that's what the order meant, but apparently not." Timothy started to respond just as Carol's mobile ringtone went off. Carol checked the number and frowned slightly. She answered the call immediately. "Cindy? What is- Slow down honey, what's the matter?" Timothy glanced to Carol, hearing the panicked tones on the other side of the phone. "You burnt your hand? On what… baking cookies? Where's Olly, he's meant to be looking over you? He said it'd be fine? Where is he? Out with his friends?" Carol squeezed the phone tighter. "Alright, it's okay, just your hand? Run it under the water as fast as you can, alright? Then-"

At that moment, a car suddenly zoomed around the corner. It was a Ford Mustang, driven by some scrawny looking man. He beeped at the two police officers as he sped past them. Following closely on his tail were three more Mustangs. The zoomed past, easily breaking the speed limit. Acting quickly, Timothy turned on the lights and started the car, leaning down to his radio to report in as Carol talked on her phone. "Alright honey, momma's gotta go, alright? Just keep it under water for a few minutes, I need to go. Love you." Hanging up and slipping the phone back into her pocket, Carol glanced at Timothy as he concentrated on the road. "You just had to say you wanted excitement, didn't you?"

"These idiots are going to crash at this speed. Jesus Christ."

* * *

Sabrina sat silently on the bus next to Ruby as her fellow contest winners asked the three musicians questions. She didn't mean to sign up when she had come to the Festival, but Ruby talked her into it after she hit her in the face. Ruby was a nice girl. Slightly eccentric, but happy with the way her life was. Ruby had already called her a friend… friend… Sabrina hadn't had any friends since February 5th the year before.

_Sean…_ Sabrina closed her eyes briefly and tried to concentrate on the pudgy Adam. After realizing that there were two Adam's who were contest winners - Adam Collins and Adam Treeland, Eddy had jokingly put '1' and '2' after their names on their name cards. He was looking at Elijah, asking his question.

"So… did you ever, like, dream of becoming as big as you are now?" Adam asked. Sabrina recognised him as one of the rookie musicians. He was pretty good, she seemed to remember.

"Nah, man, I don't think you ever expect to get to the top like this. I mean, sure, you dream of reaching these heights but I don't think you ever think you'd actually reach 'em." Elijah responded. Out of the three, he was the easiest to talk to. Charlie was okay as well, but Bridge generally responded with one or two word answers. "But man, now I'm at the top, I know it's simply a matter of effort. Like you, kid, I heard you on stage. You're good, man, and just like me, I think you can make it to where are."

Adam cheeks turned red and he rubbed the back of his head. "I… uh… thanks…"

"Hmph." Bridge said, deliberately loudly. All heads turned to him. Up until this point, he had never initiated conversation.

"Have you got something to add?" Eddy prompted. He was going between each winner, making sure everyone got a chance to talk to the headline acts.

"You talk of 'dreams'." Bridge said, sitting straighter in his seat. "Dreaming is all good and well, but you can't just 'dream' to make it to the top."

Adam bit his lip nervously. "W-What do you mean?"

"I heard that you were good. Good is fine and dandy. You can have a fine career being 'good'. But you'll never reach where we sit with simple dreams and effort. Being good, you can try and try to get better. Maybe you will get better. Maybe you'll work your way up to being a b Plus player in the industry. But efforts and dreams will never make you an A plus player, like we three."

Elijah and Charlie looked at Bridge, both frowning. Sabrina caught a brief sigh from Eddy Cool's direction.

"You got to be born with talent, kid. You can't make yourself talented, you can't just learn. You simply have to be born with the smarts to make it. Freemon and Walker were born with it. I was born with it moreso. You… You're not born with it. You don't have the look, the charisma, the talent. You obviously aspire to be like us but let me be the one to break it to you. You never will be like us. Maybe you'll get a gig or two, maybe even a concert, but you will never rise above B plus. Anything above is reserved for those like me."

"Hey man… don't bring me and Charlie into that, a'ight?" Elijah said, crossing his arms. The others were quiet and Adam bottom lip quivered. He sat back into his seat, silent.

"Well… uh…" Eddy ran a hand through his hair, smiling nervously. "I guess it's good to have different opinions…"

As the bus descended into awkward silence, Sabrina found her gaze drawn to the front of the bus. She looked past Joe and through the window. The roads were dark, any moonlight covered by dark rain clouds. Then two beams of light turned a near corner suddenly. Her eyes widened but before she could call out, the first Ford Mustang slammed hard into the front of the bus.

Joe's death was near instant. The much heavier Mustang crushed through the metal, bending inwards over Joe's lower half, crushing his legs and waist. His top half hung lip, blood dripping from his mouth.

The impact reverberated through the bus. Bridge, sitting face on, was thrust forward. He fell on his hands and knees, cursing. As the first Mustang hit the bus, it's rear end rose up into the air just in time for the second Mustang to slam underneath, essentially flipping the first Mustang over. It tore through the roof of the bus. Bridge got to his knees just in time for the tail end to crash hard into his head, crushing it easily. As the car skidded between the winners sitting on either side, Elijah managed to fall to the side while Lily leaped wildly forward, managing to avoid the impact. Charlie wasn't so lucky. The tail end crushed him in his seat, his chest capsizing inwards. Hitting the back of the bus, the Mustang tilted upwards, it's still moving front wheel shredding the underside of Jace's jaw, causing blood to spread everywhere.

The impact had also bent the door, making a sharp and deadly piece of metal. This pierced Ruby in the chest as it rocked from hitting the back of the bus. As Ruby died, Sabrina scrambled from her seat, the others in disarray.

Joe had slumped on the wheel, his foot stuck on the acceleration pedal. The bus managed to turn to the side just in time for the third Mustang to crash hard into the side. The glass and metal smashed inwards, a shard of metal stabbing Adam Treeland in the back. The piece of metal came out of his front. He stared at it in wonder, eyes blinking.

Eddy was on the floor, having been thrown from his seat. His arm was twisted the wrong way and he had lost a couple of his teeth. The third impact hit the bus hard, tipping it on his side. As he slid downwards, he looked up just in time to get crushed by the first car. Elijah, along with the others on the impact side of the bus, found himself tumbling. The fall was broken by the frame of the first Mustang, sharply cracking his head to the side. Lily landed on her feet like a cat, breathing hard.

The final Mustang slammed into the bottom of the bus, knocking her right off her feet and onto the floor. The metal piece that had impaled Adam snapped and fell down. Adam's body hit her along with the spike, pinning them together. Emma had managed to crawl out the broken back window, broken, bloody and beaten. She heard the squealing of break and turned to receive the back end of the police car into her body, smashing it into a pulp. The police car skidded to a halt, Carol and Timothy panting hard.

Then all was still.

Raiden was unconscious on the floor, still breath, his chest going up and down. Corey was clutching a torn jugular, his eyes wide and blood pumping through his fingers as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding. Adam Collins was sitting up, his face a mess of blood. It looked like his nose had been completely smashed. Jacey Rae was clutching a broken leg, tears messing up her dark eyeliner.

Sabrina stared at all of these injuries and the fatalities strewn about the bus. She survived? This was just a… just a real accident. But she survived… she was scared that what she had done in the past wasn't enough, that Death was back to get her but… but she was alive. The police woman and man had come over, peering through the front windows, fact aghast.

Sabrina smiled just as the explosion from the second car burst outwards. Sabrina watched it all as if in slow motion. The first flames consumed Raiden and Corey. The tendrils snaked outwards as if grabbing for prey, reaching Adam and Jacey with a fiery embrace. The bonnet of the car flew outwards with immense speed, cutting Carol and Timothy in two. They looked at each other as their top halves fell away from their bottom half.

The smile was still on Sabrina's face as she felt her flesh burn, smelling that same smell from two years ago. Burnt flesh. At least she'd meet her parents again at last… at least she could explain that she wasn't a coward… and that she had fought to stay alive… She let herself, finally, take in the dark kiss of Death.

* * *

Sabrina's hand suddenly stiffened, her nails tearing at the bus seat. Her eyes darted left and right, seeing that Bridge was in the midst of responding to Adam's statement. Then she looked at the road and saw ahead the corner. She knew that it had happened again, for whatever reason. She squeezed her eyes shut.

_Why?_

That simple question. She had done all she could, she had done what she was asked… now… again? But she had no more time to question. Without a thought, Sabrina pushed herself from her seat and ran to the front of the bus. Joe looked to her with surprise as she grabbed the steering wheel and wrenched it hard to the left. The bus squealed as it went face-first into a ditch hard, the force knocking everyone forward. Sabrina found her head bound against the front glass and she collapsed limply to the floor, everything turning black.

**A/N:- Thanks to Grojbandian180 & Yajuu-Kikuishi for the reviews. Woohoo! Vision! Yay! I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot. We've had our character introductions, now it's nothing but plot ahead. You can write the list and see where people are supposed to die and keep track, if you like. Things are gonna get good. **

'**Till next time!**


	10. Bodies

_17:50_

"I am going to be glad to arrest these sons of bitches." Timothy growled, keeping very close attention to the road as he followed behind the group of four Mustangs. Carol nodded.

"There's a sharp corner coming up, be careful."

"Way ahead of you." Unlike the Mustang drivers, Timothy slowed down as they approached that corner. Just before the Mustangs swung around the corner, a loud crashing sound cracked in the air. Carol glanced to Timothy.

"What was that?"

"No idea. Wasn't them." Timothy responded as the Mustangs disappeared around the corner. He followed soon after, turning just in time to see the Mustang in the lead curl to the left, apparently having lost control of his vehicle. "Oh shit."

The second Mustang hit the first in the side, crumpling metal and glass. It took barely a second for the next two to hit, smashing into the first two like hammers into nails. The pile up was quick and brutal. All four cars came to a stop, black smoke pouring out from underneath the bonnet of one of them.

"Timothy." Carol said, pointing to the side where the road dipped down. Timothy looked, having focused his attention on the crash, and spotted a bus that had gone front first into the ditch. They could see movement through the darkened windows.

"They weren't part of the crash." Timothy narrowed his eyes. "This is just great… What do we do?"

"Well, we have to call it in. I'll head over to the bus, see what the situation is. Check on the Mustang drivers. It's possibly they've sustained serious injuries. In fact, call the ambulance for good measure."

Timothy nodded, bringing the police car to a stop mid-way between the crashed bus and the Mustang pile-up. Carol exited quickly, jogging over to the bus. As she approached, a long slender man seemed to fold out of the door, coughing. The bus' engine was smoking as well, pushing through the broken front windshield and throughout the bus. Carol recognised the man. It was the famous musician who was performing at the For the People festival, Bridge.

Bridge wiped his mouth and passed by Carol, completely ignoring her when she tried to ask if she was alright. Shrugging to herself, Carol turned away to see about the rest of the people on the bus.

Lily skipped out of the bus, smiling despite the fact she had a cut on her head, a sliver of blood curving its way down her face.

"Are you alright?" Carol asked.

"Fine. Looks like the driver got the worst of it." Lily replied before skipping over to Bridge who had sat down further away from the bus.

At this news, Carol stepped inside the door and noticed that the bus driver was unconscious, leaning against the dashboard. The front of the bus had crumpled in, crushing his legs. She could see blood dripping on the floor. She quickly checked his pulse, thankfully finding one. Biting her lip, not used to scenarios like this, she turned to the back of the bus. Everyone was moving at least, checking out small injuries. Mostly cuts and bruises, although it seemed Eddy had a broken finger.

"Is everybody okay?" Carol called out to the occupants of the bus. Eddy approached her, nursing his hand.

"We're all good back here, other than my broken finger. But Joe…" Eddy looked to the front of the bus. "Is he-"

"He's breathing." Carol informed him. "Can you help get everyone off the bus? An ambulance is coming and it will be safer to be outside."

"What about Joe?"

"I'm sorry, but there's not much we can do until the ambulance gets here."

The bus quickly emptied under Carol and Eddy's supervision. It turned out Emma had somehow injured her foot. It didn't look broken, but it may have been a fracture, so she was helped out by Eddy who held her under the arm. As sirens were heard close by, Carol approached Timothy who had been looking at the crash. At the look on his face she could guess the result, but she had to ask anyway. "What's the damage?" She asked.

Timothy shook his head. "No survivors." He replied grimly. "Double check on the survivors over there. I need to write down some notes, as do you."

"Right." Carol nodded and walked back towards the survivors, who were all quiet. "Okay..." At the sound of her voice, the survivors all looked at her. "What happened here? How did the bus crash?"

"It crashed as a result of that girl saving us." Elijah said from the step of the bus. He was sitting close to Joe, ready to be there for him if he woke up. "She turned the bus into the ditch right before those cars crashed. I'm sure we would have been in that crash otherwise and things will have turned out a whole lot worse." Elijah pointed towards Sabrina, who was sitting next to Ruby. Ruby was shivering, obviously shaken by the incident. In fact, everyone other than Bridge and Lily looked shaken up.

"You saw the cars?" Carol questioned.

"I saw the headlights… they were going far too fast… There were headlights on either side of the road so I feared they'd hit the bus. I just… I just acted instinctively…" Sabrina said, rubbing her elbow.

"You may have saved a lot more lives." Carol said. Who knows what would have happened if the bus was caught in that crash. "The ambulance will be here soon, so those of you who need medical care will get treated. After that we'll have to get into more detailed questioning, but-"

Carol's voice was cut off by a cacophony of noise. The air rocked with the explosion of the Mustangs, everything turning bright in the late afternoon light. Carol fell forward - she could feel the heat of the explosion on the back of her neck. As she fell, she turned, getting a view of a body flung to the side. Her heart stopped for a brief moment as she realized who that must be. "Timothy!" She screamed.

As his body hit the floor, a hubcap broke free from one of the cars. The explosion propelled the hubcap forwards, spinning hard past the survivors and smashing through the back window of the bus. No one could do anything as it hit Joe in the back of the head, the force of the blow tearing through the back of his skull. His blood burst outwards, spilling over Elijah.

Then everything went silent other than the ringing in their ears. Elijah stared at his bloody hands then looked up to Joe. Carol, ignoring any other possible danger, sprinted towards the body that had been flung a good twenty foot from the explosion. She fell to her knees next to the heavily burnt and blackened body of Timothy. His face was covered with lacerations and his clothes had fused with his skin.

"Please… don't do this, Timothy, please… you're not… you can't be…" Carol was muttering incoherently, staring at the ruined face of her former lover and lifelong friend. His eyes suddenly flickered open, causing Carol to gasp. He tried to speak but no words came from his mouth. Instead, he raised his arm slowly and managed to grasp Carol's hand. Carol's bottom lip quivered as she held onto the hand, tears spilling from her eyes. Then the hand went limp and Timothy's eyes stared blankly past her.

* * *

_19:03_

"Right. Somerset? Okay… okay. What makes you think this is something for us?" Eugene Hawk held the phone to his ear, fiddling with a pen. He was sat at a desk, filled with a mess of paper and files. The office he was sitting in was small and packed tightly with filing cabinets and another desk. On one wall was a map of England, pegs dotted all across the large map, over a hundred in total. Another wall held a large whiteboard with over a hundred names written down - most were crossed off with red marker, but around twenty weren't. Sitting at the other desk, Harold Kelly listened closely, chewing his gum. His desk was laid out more neatly than Eugene's, with papers stacked perfectly and pens and pencils in their proper jar. "Sabrina Holland? Sure, I remember her. Had a shouting match with a wall in the hospital. Oh. And she's…" Eugene placed the pen on the table. "It's likely? You mean she hasn't told the other survivors? Alright, that's all we need to know. Do you have a list of the survivors for us?" Grabbing a piece of paper, Eugene picked up the pen again and started scribbling. He stopped for a moment. "What kind of name is Bridge? You mean we don't know his real name? Must be a miracle in this day and age. Alright, thanks. See you." Eugene placed the phone back down and leaned back in his chair, sighing.

"What's the situation?" Harold asked.

"Sabrina Holland's done it again, it seems." Eugene stood up, adjusting his trilby. "A bus crashed down in Somerset, some kind of award for a contest for that For the People Festival deal. Sabrina pulled the bus to the side, saving it from a more serious crash."

"And she didn't tell the other survivors about it." Harold said.

"This is unheard of." Eugene walked over to the whiteboard, hovering his finger over the name 'Sabrina Holland'. Her name wasn't crossed out. "We've had these visionaries stay alive and then they've gone cold turkey - nothing important ever comes up again. But a visionary involved in _another_ accident… We're missing something key here… facts show that there is never a second vision."

"She must have broken a pattern."

"But what pattern?" Eugene walked over to a filing cabinet, quickly browsed through, and pulled out a folder. He opened it and looked down at a picture of Sabrina Holland, taken from her family home. Her face was unmarred by the scar that would invade it in the future. "She's no different from any others. What makes her so special?"

"Perhaps there is a rule?" Harold suggested. Eugene turned to him.

"A rule?"

"We're dealing with something verging on supernatural. We've known this for years. We have it on record that some visionaries talk about 'Death' as a being, a person." Harold smacked his gum. "Something gives them visions. What if something gives them rules? What if Sabrina Holland decided to break this rule? Perhaps this is punishment."

"That's a lot of what if's…" Eugene frowned.

"Asking questions is our job." Harold simply replied. "We'll need to talk to her, I assume?"

"You assume right my friend." Eugene handed the piece of paper he had scribbled on to Harold. "We'll head down there tomorrow. In the meanwhile, let's gather as much information on these survivors as we can. We might be able to discern some kind of pattern."

* * *

_19:30_

"We're going to have to cancel." Eddy Cool said to his phone, sitting down outside the West Mendip Community Hospital in Glastonbury. He, Lily, and Emma had gone to the hospital to get their injuries treated. Luckily all were minor injuries. His finger now had a splint, Lily's head wound had been cleaned and treated, and Emma's leg thankfully turned out to be a sprain, not a fracture. The deceased had been taken away and those that weren't injured were allowed to go. They all went back to the Festival grounds, solemn and silent, the cheer gone from the night. Eddy listened patiently. "I know… I know we've spent a lot of money, but we can't just continue. I mean… if no-one died it would be a different matter but six casualties… it just can't happen. Besides, reporters are already asking questions of Bridge, Charlie and Elijah. They haven't gotten to me yet though. This is bad publicity, it has to stop." Eddy stood up and followed the hospital walls to the side. "We need to do something about those that don't live in England though." Listening to the response, Eddy shook his head. "We can't just ignore them, come on. Look, you like dealing in business - here's business. These deaths have bad publicity all around them. But housing those who can't go back home- why can't they go back? The police have asked as to stay in the south. London is pretty much as north as we can go. I don't know why, but I'm not exactly going to question their decisions. It's probably because one of their fellow police died so they want to make sure there wasn't any foul play."

Eddy had made his way to the back of the hospital now and sat down again. "Look, they can't get out of the country. If we use the hotel we were going to use for the contest as a place for the foreigners to stay, then we'll get good publicity out of these." Eddy closed his eyes in relief at the respond. "Okay, thanks. This'll be over soon, probably a week or so. I'll be seeing you soon." Shutting his phone, Eddy had to resist the urge to shout. Freddy could be so stubborn. At least he could assert some authority being a co-founder of the For the People festival. It was something not many people knew about him - he wasn't advertised as the owner unlike Freddy, but they had started it up together.

Although he couldn't blame Freddy. Those deaths had put him on edge… He knew Joe. Perhaps not quite a friend, but a guy he could talk to with a smile. Him being dead… Eddy shook his head. Death always scared him, the way a human life could snuff out in an instant. It'd be better not to think about it. Besides, he was proposing to Felicity in two days and he didn't want anything to ruin that day. He had put far too much planning into it.

Opening his phone again, Eddy started dialling the foreigners numbers one by one, to offer the stay at the hotels. He had gotten their numbers for contact purposes for the contest, just in case. Corey Walker, Ruby Ascot, Jace Ryan, Jacey Rae Callibaster and of course Emma. He phoned each of them and was surprised that all of them accepted. A free bed is a free bed, after all, Eddy guessed. It must've been even more horrible for them. They came to this country to enjoy some of the best music and instead ended up with multiple deaths in their memories. He'd have to see if he could do anything else for them later. They would be taking a minibus to London, where the hotel awaited.

"Let's just hope this one doesn't crash." Eddy chuckled to himself, before a feeling of intense guilt fell on his shoulders. He ducked his head down, staring at the floor. "Shit… Sorry, Joe…"

**A/N:- Thanks to Yajuu-Kikuishi, A. Zarko & Grojbandian180 for the reviews!**

**So Joe and Timothy have fell first in the main plot of this story. The first of many, I do so suspect.**

'**Till next time! **


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